


Tristful

by dearren



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Children, Angst, But i promise this isn't all sad!!, But they still have problems, Canon Compliant, Codependency, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up Together, Heteronormativity, Homophobia, I love hurting myself with sad fanfiction, I'm just trying to imagine what happened with our boys up until the start of the series, It's also very cute and very !!!!!, Like the rising is still gonna happen after this fic, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Rick, Overprotective, POV Kieren Walker, Pre-Canon, Slow Build, They are just children, and Everything else, gay zombies, mmmhmmmm can you smell the terrible things that i am cooking up, oblivious kieren, they just want what's best for the other but they like miss the obvious things u kno
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:52:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 41,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8010826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearren/pseuds/dearren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>tristful<br/>adjective \ trist·ful  \ ˈtrist-fəl \<br/>deeply yet romantically melancholy</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kieren and Rick

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ (updated):  
> just a quick heads-up that what i am writing is my own personal interpretation of things and reflects what i think could be possible/what i enjoy. any depictions of characters may differ from the original. any depictions of real life situations (i.e. abuse, mental illnesses) stem from my imagination and may not necessarily be very realistic or even compliant to what we see in the actual show. 
> 
> that said, i hope you can enjoy my imaginary piece i've written purely for my and your entertainment.
> 
> \-----
> 
> Timeline (Kieren Walker)  
> age: - chapter(s):  
> 11 – 1  
> 12 – 2-3  
> 13 – 4-6  
> 14 – 7-10  
> 15 – 11-15  
> 16 – 16-21  
> 17 – 22-28  
> 18 – 29-30
> 
>  -----
> 
> i am not a native speaker and tend to make a lot of mistakes (especially in the earlier chapters). feel free to leave any comments/critique/... you want to share!!
> 
> \-----
> 
> I will update specific warnings for each chapter. Please tell me if there is anything you need me to tag in order to safely read and enjoy this fanfiction.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> physical harm  
> bullying

Roarton has never been a good place to begin with.

No one went to Roarton and thought to themselves “well, this is a nice little place, isn't it?”. You were born into it. You were born into the grey brick houses under the grey clouded sky and you grew up in the grey winding roads and the grey abandoned fields that surrounded the area for miles on end. A desolate place. Remote, if you were a little more optimistic.

Decay was one of the defining traits of Roarton. Rust and mould accompanying neglect and forlornness. Nothing seemed to have been built within the last ten years, at least and most things were falling apart quite a bit.

And in between all the dreariness, people lived. Ordinary everyday people, living their ordinary everyday lives, undisturbed, unbothered. Uncaring. Going about their lives in Roarton. Wasting away day after day after day.

Kieren Walker had never felt a part of Roarton. He'd always felt strange, a little bit different, a little bit off. Like he didn't belong, like parts of him didn't belong where they were.

He wasn't the only one to notice. 

People, those ordinary everyday kinds, tended to avoid Kieren. He would be regarded with looks and met with little understanding. 

It wasn't like Kieren was much different. Outwardly, he was more than average, he believed. His hair the colour of sand fit right in with the dreariness of it all and his small physique was little to notice. All in all, Kieren looked like someone to stay under the radar.

He dressed like everyone else, he walked like everyone else and he spoke like everyone else. Yet, something seemed to be off-putting about him. Something that didn't sit right with the folks and made them suspicious.

So when he started secondary school, Kieren decided, fuck them. If they were going to treat him differently, he might as well embrace it. He changed his sweaters for leather jackets and ripped his jeans at the knees. Eleven year old Kieren Walker looked every bit out of the ordinary when he walked into the school building that day, hair damp from the rain that never seemed to stop, clothes black on black on black. 

The other kids avoided him, all shy eyes and downcast faces looking the other way. His sharp edges too much for their grey lives. Secondary school seemed to be no different than any place he'd been before. Any people he'd met before were the same that stood around him in safe distance.

It wasn't until a few days later that he met Rick Macy. One year older than him, broad shoulders and a smile made for war. They didn't meet in the sense that they saw each other, started a conversation or were introduced by a mutual friend. 

Kieren Walker and Rick Macy met on the playground, fighting each other. It had all started during recess when Kieren had accidentally bumped into Brock Worthington, school asshole and future jobless, who had declared a fist fight to settle it. That meant, Brock and his five friends ranging from twelve to fourteen or so against eleven year old new kid Kieren. 

Actually, Rick and Kieren met when their headmistress Mrs Heathers yelled at them in her office. Always so smart Brock had chosen a spot directly in front of her office window and the first chants and grunts she had been outside.

No, but really, they met during detention. After school ended, Kieren as well as Brock and his gang, including Rick had to pick up trash from the playground and inside the school building under the caretaker's supervision. Two hours for one week. 

Scraping off strawberry bubblegum from under the benches, Rick said his first ever words to Kieren. “I'm sorry, mate.”

Not looking away from his work, Kieren asked: “What for?”

“Brock's a jerk. I should've known better than, you know...”

“Trying to beat up an eleven year old?” Kieren offered, putting the gum into the plastic bag provided. It stuck to his gloves instead.

“Yeah. That sounds really bad when you say it that way.”

“Wasn't at all, though. If Mrs Heathers hadn't come to your rescue, I would've messed up your faces quite a bit.”

At that, Rick chuckled, bumped his head against the underside of the bench, cursed and chuckled again. “You're funny. Now I'm extra sorry.”

“It's whatever, really” Kieren assured, finishing off the last piece of bubblegum and sliding out from under the bench. Standing up, he watched Rick finish his bench.

When the grey clouds opened again, Kieren and Rick hid in the wooden playhouse. The rain rushed down, hitting the ground loudly and fiercely. They watched as the pavement was turned black with the water. And just like that, they were talking. Rick said a few more sorry's and how he would never hang with Brock again and that really he hadn't done anything if it had come to an actual fight and Kieren accepted all of the apologies.

***

The next days, they made sure to spend as much time together during detention as they could. Rick was funny and nice and he knew a lot of things. He told Kieren which teacher liked to hear what and promised to help him with homework if he wanted to. Kieren liked Rick. Brock Worthington didn't like Kieren and Rick. 

So after detention, he waited for them outside the school hidden in the bushes and when the two friends exited through the gates, jumped out and punched Rick square in the face before running off, cowardly. Even though Rick didn't seem thrilled and assured a multitude of times that he would be perfectly fine, Kieren insisted on accompanying him home. On the bus, Rick pressed his already swollen cheek against the cool, stained glass. 

“Brock Worthington is the biggest of jerks” Kieren huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. His heart was still racing with fear and anger. He had been so surprised by the attack and simultaneously wanted to hit Brock back at least twice as hard.

“Calm down, mate. Brock isn't worth us even talking about him.”

“Why did you use to hang out with him in the first place, anyway?” Kieren asked, annoyedly. 

Rick shrugged, his gaze following the line of trees outside, rushing by.

“We went to primary school together. We were on the same football team. So we had to hang out. And … I don't know” he turned his head so that Kieren couldn't see his face anymore, only the back of a head. “I thought he was cool. He is a year older than me. I don't know.”

Kieren pondered on that for a moment. He had had some friends like that too, people that had the same interests but apart from that didn't have a lot in common with him. 

“I didn't know you lived in Roarton as well” Kieren exclaimed as they entered the village. Rick shrugged again.

“It's a shit place to be from.”

Kieren couldn't say anything against that.

When the bus pulled up at his station, Rick got up and Kieren followed him outside into the light drizzle. Rick's house looked pretty much like Kieren's. Grey-brown stone and colour that needed to be renewed. 

“Mum, dad, I'm home” Rick said, loudly, as he shut the door behind him and Kieren. “I've got a friend around!”

Rick's mother popped her head out of the kitchen. The first word that came to Kieren's mind as he saw her was kind. Mrs Macy looked kind with her beige cardigan and burgundy skirt and short, sandy hair. She smiled at him, warmly. 

“And who are you, dear?” she sing-songed.

“I'm Kieren. Walker. Kieren Walker.” 

That was when Mrs Macy noticed the reddened cheek on her son. In an instant, she had his face cupped in her hands, examining the bruise. “What happened, Ricky?”

Embarrassed, Rick shook of her hands, looking to the floor. “Nothing. I tripped and fell. Can you get me some ice, please?”

Kieren didn't know but when Mrs Macy had her back turned to him, her smile faltered and she looked at her son with as much sadness as a mother could hold in her eyes. Then she went into the kitchen to search for something to cool the darkening bruise with. 

“Your father's not home, yet. Maybe you and Kieren can go into your room and start on your homework while I finish cooking lunch, yes?” she said, handing Rick a bag of frozen peas and offering Kieren a smile slightly colder than the one prior.

“Course" Rick said, turning to walk toward the staircase. Kieren, still a little unsettled by the exchange he had just witnessed, followed his new friend up and into his bedroom. 

The small space was filled with nothing much. A bed and a bedside table, a wardrobe and a desk, all oak wood and neat.

Kieren looked at all the individual things for a moment. The made bed with the dove grey linen. The trophies lined on the window sill and the book laying on the bedside table, a piece of white paper marking, where Rick had closed it last time.  
“It's not much” Rick commented, falling onto his bed. “But it's all mine.”

“It's so tidy” Kieren said. His own room was always a mess, dirty laundry, ripped out pages from his sketch book and other things littering the floor, posters covering the walls. Rick's room looked like it could have been from a hotel advert.

“Yeah. I like to know where everything is.”

They did their homework in silence apart from Rick occasionally groaning and cursing whoever invented maths. The old Egyptians, Kieren informed him and Rick cursed the old Egyptians. 

***

When Mrs Macy called them down for lunch, Rick stopped Kieren by the door.

“Listen, mate. My dad's … he doesn't like a lot of things. And he says so. Please just … try to stay polite and … actually, say nothing much, if you can help it.”

Slightly confused, Kieren followed his friend down into the kitchen. Mrs Macy was laying the table but instead of offering to help, Rick plopped down on a chair and gestured for Kieren to do the same, next to him.

Cue, Mr Macy. Tall, rough and his eyebrows furrowed and looking for anything that might need frowning at. He found Kieren. He frowned at him. “Who's that?” he said, flatly. 

“That's Kieren. We go to school together” Rick said. Suddenly, he sat very straight in his chair. Kieren did the same. Where Mrs Macy had provoked the word kind in him, Mr Macy provoked the word unkind. 

“Very well.” He sat down at the end of the table, his eyes not once leaving Kieren. “What's he wearin'?” he asked, pointing his hand vaguely at Kieren. He was still wearing his slightly too big black leather jacket. Only recently, he had added safety pins to it. He looked from Mr Macy to Rick, unsure whether he was supposed to answer or Rick. When Rick didn't, Kieren leaned forward to meet Mr Macy's gaze. 

“It's a leather jacket, Sir” he said.

If possible, Mr Macy's frown deepened. “Don't you get smug with me, boy” he warned. Rick visibly flinched as Mr Macy put his hands on the table with some emphasis.

Never had Kieren been so thankful for someone to enter as Mrs Macy. Bringing the rice, she smiled at the three brightly, defusing the situation. 

Lamb and green beans set next to the rice, Mrs Macy sat down opposite to Kieren and Rick. “How was school, Ricky?” she asked, taking her husband's plate to fill it.

“Was good. Mr Smith commended my essay I had handed in last week and I got a B on the geography test.” He went on about his teachers and how well he was doing and then onto the homework he had already as good as finished. Nothing about detention. Kieren wondered, if Rick's parents even knew how he'd been spending his last four afternoons.

“Kieren, dear, what about you? Which grade are you in, again?”

“I'm in year seven” Kieren said, shyly. He had always made a big deal about appearing bold and as if he couldn't care less. But something about Mr Macy's presence, made his walls crumble.

“Oh, lovely! So you're new. How is it? Is it much different than to where you went to Primary School?”

Answering as many of Mrs Macy's questions as he could while also avoiding Mr Macy and noticing that Rick didn't say a single word, Kieren finished his meal. 

They went up to Rick's room as soon as Mrs Macy allowed them to, even though Mr Macy didn't seem thrilled that they left while he was still eating. 

Back in the bedroom with the door closed, Kieren let out a huge puff of air. “Your father's tough” he said. Rick nodded, sitting down on the chair by his desk. 

“Yeah. Warned ya. He's a piece of work but he's really nice if you get to know him.”

Somehow, Kieren couldn't really picture that but he nodded in agreement, still. They finished their homework and then talked about school and gossiped about Brock until Kieren realised, that his parents had no idea where he was and called them. Rick had his own phone in his room, which Kieren found incredible. Rick just shrugged it off. It was a birthday gift last year from his mum. 

Kieren's dad took the call. “We were getting worried” he said but he didn't sound angry. Kieren found himself thanking the heaven's for his own father. 

“I'm just at a friend's.”

He ended the call explaining that they wouldn't have to pick him up and promising to be home for dinner which he almost managed but Rick showed him this cool card trick and spend almost two hours trying to teach Kieren.

“See you at detention, tomorrow” Rick waved him goodbye as Kieren went off into the twilight in Roarton, the grey for once not bothering him as he smiled back to his friend and headed home.


	2. The Fish-Killer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> mention of murder/death

Twelve year old Kieren Walker liked to blast rock music and sing along at the top of his lungs and when he liked them enough he put them together on CD's. Twelve year old Kieren Walker liked movie nights with his dad and popcorn and grapes he throws in the air trying to catch them with his mouth. Twelve year old Kieren Walker liked to play board games with his little sister Jem and let her win on purpose because he loved her adorable smile.

Twelve year old Kieren Walker and thirteen year old Rick Macy liked to explore.

After school, most of the days, they stayed for an extra hour or two, roaming the small town and sometimes walking all the way back to Roarton. There, they were especially intrigued by the vast forest that lay a little away from the village, tall, dark trees and ferns and underbrush where they would wander around for hours.

“You know, Abbey Williams said, that someone was murdered in these woods” Rick said, throwing a rock he had picked up along the way into a thicket of bramblebushes. A bird screamed, hectically spiralling into the grey sky.

“That's bullshit” Kieren commented. His parents didn't allow him to say such things but Rick didn't mind. If anything, Rick had taught him some new swearwords over the course of their friendship.

“No, mate, I swear. They found the poor guy with his stomach slit open and guts everywhere. Like a fish.”

Kieren giggled. “A fish?”

“Yeah, they take their guts out, too. You wouldn't wanna eat that, now, would you? Anyway, they found him after he'd been missing for three days. Never found his murderer.”

They walked down a slope and into a valley, fallen leaves, crumbled and brown, littered the ground. 

“Rumour has it” Rick continued, “that the psycho's still out here, hiding.”

“Yeah, right. Been hiding in the woods for years, eating berries and baby rabbits.”

Rick regarded Kieren with a smirk but he shook his head. “Nah. Been only like one year since it last happened. Because, believe it or not, it's an annual thing. On the 31st of October, every year, the psycho murderer takes his next victim.”

The whole story started to sound more and more like something that would be told around a campfire, flashlight theatrically placed under the storyteller's chin, frightened little children huddled together as he spilled all the gory made up details.

“And takes it's guts out because they taste bad.”

Playfully, Rick pushed Kieren, who acted as if he'd lost his balance. “How come I've never heard of that before, then? Shouldn't they, like, warn the folks to stay clear of the psycho fish-killer?”

“Because they can't do that. It's top secret. Probably MI6 or something” Rick said.

“Or maybe it's because it's all a fake ghost story Abbey made up because she wanted to talk to you because she has a crush on you?”

Rolling his eyes, Rick jumped onto a fallen, dead tree. Kieren took a little longer, milling about, searching for a good strategy to get himself up onto the thick oak.  
Rick was much more agile than him. He was in the soccer team and also the track team. Kieren was more interested in art. And music. He watched from the side when Rick did his sports and instead of participating, he sketched what he saw. He wasn't particularly good but his mother always told him that “practice makes professionals”. And so Kieren practiced whenever he could, his sketchbook a constant companion. 

Finally up on the dead tree, Kieren sat down next to Rick and took it out of his backpack. He flipped through a few pages, all filled with scribbles and doodles of random things and people. He stopped at a blank page, took the pencil out of its loop, and started drawing.

They sat in comfortable silence, Rick having taken out a book he was supposed to read for his English class but abandoned it almost immediately and went to watching Kieren draw.

“You're really good” Rick commented, pointing at the tree Kieren had been sketching. It looked much more crooked than in reality, the lines crossing way too harshly here and there and there was no depth to it. But Kieren didn't let it discourage him. He'd drawn worse trees and would draw better ones.

“Thanks” he said, flashing Rick a smile. “I've been trying out different techniques a lot. My dad got me a book about pencil drawings last Friday and I've been reading and trying out so many new things.”

He loved talking about art. It fascinated and captured him. But the best thing was, that Rick seemed to love listening him talk about art, too. Gladly, he let Kieren go on and on about colours and angles and pencil techniques with genuine interest. Of course, Kieren's family also listened to him but they didn't always have the time and they interrupted him and they changed the topic. Rick just listened for hours.

“Let's camp out here” Rick said, suddenly, when Kieren had returned to silently drawing shrub and fern. He looked up, an eyebrow raised.

“On the 31st, I mean. We could make it a cool spooky thing with the psycho killer and all that.” 

“That's stupid” Kieren said, tapping his pencil on the sketchbook page, annoyedly.

“Or are you just afraid?” Rick teased. “Afraid to be fish-killed?”

“Shut up, that's just a story. Okay. We'll do it. Only to prove you that it's fake. But also ...”

“What?” Rick asked

“If I'm right, and the murderer doesn't exist, you have to ask Abbey out.”

Rick, blushing, shook his head. “Nuh-uh. What if I'm right?”

Shrugging, Kieren turned his attention back to his sketchbook, putting the finishing touches on a leaf. “Then we're gonna die at the hands of a psycho.”

***

On October 31st 2004, Kieren and Rick went into the woods to camp. Kieren's parents had not been on board so Kieren had told them that instead they would camp in the Macy's garden. He didn't know what Rick's parents knew but he supposed that his dad would find camping in the woods a good thing. He was all about Rick doing stupid shit like that. He even took him to a cabin in a forest to shoot tin cans and even wildlife every now and then. Yeah, Bill Macy probably clapped Rick on the back congratulating him on his expedition into the wilderness, bring him back a few Bambi heads to decorate the walls.

“So, where did you say the psycho killed all the people again?” Kieren asked. He followed Rick, flashlight in hand as twilight lay thinly over them, a soft veil of lilac and orange. Rick had the tent in a big bag and Kieren carried both their sleeping bags and a backpack with snacks and water.

“We're almost there” Rick said. But he didn't sound as thrilled as when they had planned their trip. Kieren was starting to think, that maybe they should've actually camped in one of their yards rather than in the woods that might hold a psychotic murderer within.

“There it is!” Rick exclaimed, some of the excitement returning to his voice. He jogged ahead, leading Kieren into a almost perfectly circular clearing. The sun had almost completely set, eerie sounds of cicadas and frogs filling the air.

“Okay. So let's set up camp, it's starting to get cold.”

***

It took almost one and a half hours for the two boys to put the tent together. By the time they were finished, night had fallen and October's unkind winds had picked up, gnawing their hands and noses red.

Inside the tent, Kieren emptied the snacks onto the floor. Chocolates and crisps and liquorice and two apples spilled over the plastic and found thankful takers who devoured them soon enough.

“Turn off the flashlight” Rick said, after a while. Kieren followed suit, clicking them into darkness. 

“Why?” he asked. Then he added, whispering: “Did you hear something?”

“No, scaredy-cat, I just wanna change into my PJ's is all.”

They stripped and clothed in silence and darkness and when they were all snuggled up in their sleeping bags, Kieren turned the flashlight back on. Wincing at the sudden brightness Kieren put down the flashlight between the two of them.

“How late do you think it is?” he said in a low voice. He wouldn't admit it but he was feeling rather uneasy, all alone in the woods at least a mile from any civilisation. Kieren shuddered at the thought that no one would come to their rescue if they screamed for help. He imaged someone watching the shadows of the two boys from the outside, predatory grin on the face and weapon at the ready.

“I don't know. Maybe around eleven? Midnight?”

“When did Abbey say the psycho comes out to, you know -” Kieren made a stabbing gesture, his hand clenched around an invisible blade. Rick stared at it for a few seconds before attempting a weak idea of a smug grin.

“Um. Midnight.”

They lay in silence, unmoving. Every breaking branch startled them, every bird's scream turned into a human yell. Frightened and unwell, Kieren didn't think he would sleep at all that night. In the light of the flashlight, Rick seemed ghostly pale. Sharp intakes of breath told him that both of them wouldn't. 

***

When Kieren woke up, soft morning light was seeping through an open tent. Half asleep, it took Kieren a few seconds to figure out that he was alone. Rick was gone. 

Immediately, Kieren was on his feet and out of the tent. “Rick?” he asked, loudly. No answer.

Early birds were singing from the high trees, the milky glow filtering through the half-naked branches. The leaves on the ground were white with frost and Kieren's breath caught in clouds before his face. Fear had taken a grip on his heart, squeezing it.

“Rick?” he asked, now almost yelling. Still, nothing. He was starting to shake with more than just the cold. This couldn't be happening, the story of the killer had so obviously been fake! But there were other threats in the woods. Were bears common for their area?

Only when he screamed his best friend's name did the other boy emerge from some bushes, confused. “Why are you screaming bloody murder? The fish-killer exist after all?” Rick said, casually.

“That's not f-f-funny!” Kieren exclaimed, his teeth chattering. He was only in a tee and sweatpants. Rick had taken his big, furry coat with him and wore his boots. Kieren stood in the forest barefoot. 

“Get inside, you weirdo, you're gonna catch a cold” Rick said, walking past Kieren and into the tent. 

“I was worried” Kieren explained, closing the entrance after himself and climbing back into his sleeping bag. He was full on shivering. 

“Here.” Rick had taken off his jacket and was now offering it to Kieren who took it, still a little pissed at him. The faux lambskin warmed him up slowly but surely. Soon, he felt the numbness exit his fingers and toes.

“Sorry, I didn't want to scare you” Rick said, truthfully. 

“Yeah. It's okay. But you know what? Seeing as we're both alive, you're gonna have to ask Abbey out.”

Exasperated, Rick threw his hands into the air. “But I don't like her! She tells fake stories about murderers and she thinks she's so smart!”

“Do you think she's smart?” Kieren teased, watching as Rick rolled his eyes, sighed and let himself fall from his sitting position onto his sleeping bag. 

“No. I don't. I don't like her. At all.”

“Who do you like?”

“No one. The fish-killer.”

“Yeah. He's a great guy. And the way he scoops out people's guts from their stomachs? Very hot.”

That send them both crying with laughter and Kieren was glad that they hadn't been murdered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> goddamn little boys playing in the woods and telling ghost stories ugh
> 
> also it'll go like this from now on:  
> there are 2 chapters where kieren is 12  
> 3 where he's 13 and so on and so on until we've reached 18  
> i hope i can do that but rn it's looking like it so you have a Lot to look forward to, that is if you enjoy this.


	3. We Wish You a Merry Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> implied mental health issues  
> abuse  
> guilt tripping

When Christmas rolled around, the differences between the Walker and the Macy family were once again highlighted. 

Where the Walkers kept it small and familiar, most of their decorations handmade, the Macy's pushed and pulled until every last bauble and string light turned their house into Father Christmas' homestead. Well, not exactly Macy's, plural.

Bill Macy had an ongoing feud, Rick explained, with the across neighbours, who also liked to show off during the holiday season. And so for a few Christmases now, Mr Macy had tried his very hardest to turn the bleak house into something homely and inviting, making it stand out starkly against the rest of the neighbourhood.

The two boys watched from Rick's bedroom's window as Bill Macy put up the ridiculously gigantic tree for the front yard. They watched as he failed – twice – and yelled – twice – before he spotted them and called them down to “goddamn help a little bit, yer lazy ass boys”.

Kieren, assigned to decorate the lower portion of the tree with tinsel and small golden bells, couldn't help but feel festive even with Bill Macy's gaze hovering over him like that of a hawk's. Rick was stuck decorating the top half. His father held the ladder and supervised them. Or rather, criticised them while sometimes leaning against the ladder giving it the one or other slight tilt that had Rick screech in surprise.

Mrs Macy invited Kieren to stay for dinner and despite his obvious dislike he had taken in Kieren, Bill Macy agreed. He even gave Kieren a nod which, by Bill Macy standards, came close to a smile. 

If possible, the inside of the Macy's was even more impressively decorated than the outside. Every nook and cranny was overflowing with tinsel in silver and red and green. Baubles hang from everything, glistening in candle light. Furiously blinking, colourful fairy lights formed spiderwebs under the ceiling and “Last Christmas” seemed to sound from everywhere.

As Kieren and Rick helped Mrs Macy prepare the dinner, Bill Macy kept on tinkering with the decorations, giving the two boys time to talk without him listening in for the first time in hours.

“I would've never taken your dad as someone who likes Christmas this much” Kieren said, making sure his voice was low enough for neither of the older Macy's to overhear him. Rick just shrugged and continued taking the cutlery out of a drawer and handing it to Kieren.

“He is simply a very competitive nature” Rick explained, having moved on to plates now. “He gets into things like this very fast and very hard but not for very long. This is the third year in a row he's done this and I don't think it's going to last another year. He gets bored rather quickly.”

Kieren could believe that just well. “What else did he obsess over” he continued as they lay the table together.

“Oh, so many things. He once collected skulls from small animals until mum threw them all out while we were on a hunting trip. Wasn't exactly a good day when he came home. And also there was that thing with the colour. He once for like two months colour coded everything. Clothes and all. We were only allowed to wear what fit in his crazy scheme.”

“The Christmas decorating sounds like it's the most fun one” Kieren said.

“Yeah. It's very fun” Rick said, sarcastically, waving one of the plates, showing off it's happy and slightly disturbing Santa Claus face.

***

Apparently, the Macy's now prayed before every meal. At least Bill Macy looked very shocked when Kieren didn't immediately catch on and tried to take a sip of water.

“Yer parents never taught you manners, boy?” he said, bluntly. As if he expected his family to agree with him, he looked at them both before he got back to Kieren who had shrunk visibly in his seat.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know” Kieren said. He caught Rick's eye and then added: “Sir.”

A raised eyebrow was all that Bill Macy deemed the conversation worthy before he folded his hands, bowed his hand. 

This time, Kieren made sure to follow suit.

***

“There's a soccer match on the 22nd, the last one, kinda to say goodbye to the team until the new year” Rick mentioned between spoons of rice and peas. His father didn't even look up from his Santa plate. Mrs Macy, on the other hand, smiled warmly.

“Isn't that sweet? Of course we'll come watch, right, Bill?” She turned toward her husband who shrugged his shoulders. She took it as a yes. “We're already excited!” Bill Macy shrugged again.

Kieren felt very awkward, witnessing the scene, his own family so starkly different but Rick seemed satisfied. “Great! I'll make sure you'll have assigned seats. Front row, and all.”

After some silence, Mr Macy started asking questions. He made a great deal of asking Rick something and then Kieren and comparing them afterwards, speaking proudly of his son's achievements and belittling everything the other boy had done.

“Kieren's very good at art, though” Rick said, after Mr Macy had stopped laughing about Kieren's answer as to if he was in any sports teams. The answer to which had been no.

“Oh, is he now?” Rick's dad said. “How surprising. Well, arts and crafts was your favourite area too, right, honey?” He leaned over to his wife, putting a hand on her forearm before belting out a laugh again. Mrs Macy chuckled along but with much less humour. If Kieren hadn't wanted to leave before, he surely did, now. Helplessly, he looked down at Santa's face now covered in smears and stains.

“Stop that” Rick said, surprising all of them, even stunning Mr Macy to silence. Kieren's head shot up, staring at his friend.

“What did you say, son?” 

“Lay off Kieren. Sir.”

He really, really wanted to leave. Something about the situation seemed more aggressive than it should have been. They were laughing two seconds ago. And now, electricity sizzled in the air between father and son, a storm waiting to happen. Kieren wouldn't care about Bill Macy making fun of him, if that meant that they could get back to -

“Excuse me? Is this not my house?” Mr Macy roared like thunder. “Is that not my money buying the food you're stuffing your face with? That he is eating?” He pointed at Kieren, accusingly. “Excuse me if I have a bit of a laugh after working my ass off all day to pay for all of this! What kind of ungrateful, thankless, -”

“Please, Bill, we wouldn't want to have this conversation around a guest” Mrs Macy tried but she didn't sound very convincing. She sounded like she knew exactly what would happen. Kieren didn't.

He jumped when Bill Macy slammed his fists on the table, sending the cutlery and pots ring like sleigh bells. “I will not be policed in my own bloody home!” He was full on growling now, the image of a mountain lion popping into Kieren's head. Mrs Macy had shrunk to the size of a mouse, instead, lowering her head. Why did this need to happen? Why couldn't Rick let his father make fun of Kieren? Surely, he must've known what would happen. 

“Dad, he's my friend, I was just -” 

That was when Bill Macy hit his son. It took Kieren back to Brock Worthington after school and how he had waited for them and it took him back to watching nature documentaries with hungry lions and their bared teeth.

If Kieren had been brave, he would've stood up for his friends. He would have told Mr Macy off, taking Rick by the hand and headed home. He would have done anything but he did nothing. Frozen in place, Kieren Walker did nothing.

It all happened both very fast and very slowly. Rick bringing his hand up to his reddened cheek, eyes wide. Bill Macy sighing, shaking his head and getting up. Janet Macy, unmoving, watching them both. Kieren's heart was racing and his mind was overwhelmed. Guilt and fear and surprise and worry, all crushed down on him at once. 

Please let this be a dream. 

This isn't a dream.

The front door slammed shut and then the car engines roared to life outside as Mr Macy left. Only when there was no sound left, the other two Macy's and Kieren seemed to arrive back in reality.

“I'll get you some ice, love” Janet Macy said, her voice matching her mouse-like behaviour. Kieren still couldn't move. He just sat there, watching as mother and son both went past that moment as if it were nothing. As if it were ordinary. It frightened Kieren.

Only when Rick let out a hiss at the freezing cold of the crushed ice Kieren noticed, that he hadn't cried. Not even so much as flinched. When Brock had punched him, Rick had cried a little but even back then, he hadn't yelled or moaned or teared up or even complained. 

How could not have noticed? What was he supposed to do in a situation like this? Should he say something? Should he try and comfort Rick? Should he go home? Tell his parents? Call the police?

Rick's voice brought him back to reality. “I think you should go home now, Kieren.” He said it matter-of-factly. “I'm sorry you had to watch this. It's all fun and games when he's just collecting animal bones and baubles, isn't it?” And he even gives him a smile. 

Kieren can't stand himself at that moment. He hates himself for being so unsure of what to do. And he hates himself for actually leaving. And he hates that he feels so lost when it is Rick he should worry about and not himself. 

But above all, and with a passion he had never though he could feel, he hated Bill Macy.

***

On Christmas morning, Kieren woke up to his alarm at 5:30am. He knew that none of his family would be awake for another hour or so, at least. But instead of going back to sleep, he got up, dressed and went outside. 

It was still dark, only a thin line of pink foreboding the sun. Kieren put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and made his way. 

It hadn't snowed in Roarton Valley. Instead, rain had fallen the day before and now turned the road into icy deathtraps, as the weathermen called it on the news. Kieren half glided half walked, his exposed face hurting from the cold.

When he reached his destination, Kieren was shaking despite his many layers. His numb fingers took some warming up before they could hold, let alone throw and aim the pebbles. Ten or eleven throws and then Rick opened his window.

“Hey... what?”

Rick pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes for a moment. “What are you doing here, are you crazy? It's like -20°C. And also the middle of the night.”

Kieren grinned, sheepishly. “I know! But I wanted to wish you a Happy Christmas.” 

They were kind of yelling, kind of whispering because Rick's room as on the first floor but they also didn't want to wake his parents. Especially his father whom they had agreed, Kieren would stay clear of for a while.

“Thanks, mate” Rick grinned now, too. His hair was a mess and he wore a checkered button up shirt and his nose and ears were already starting to get a reddish tint.

“I also got you a present!” Kieren added, revealing it from where he had carefully hidden it behind his back. It was a rectangular box with a bow on top. He had wrapped it in silver foil wrapping paper. The name “Rick” stood in contrast, black against silver. 

“Thanks! Thank you, really” Rick said, smiling from ear to ear. “But how are we gonna get it up here?”

Kieren hadn't thought about that. He couldn't throw it. It could break or hit Rick or make noise. And he couldn't go inside without definitely waking another Macy. 

“I'll just leave it under the tree, you can get it later” Kieren offered, gesturing over to the giant tree they had decorated a few days prior. He just hoped that his present wouldn't take harm from staying in the cold a little longer.

“Okay. Wait a second.”

Kieren watched as Rick vanished and then heard some shuffling and rumbling that made him fear it could alarm Rick's father. When he returned, Rick was proudly holding a box himself. It was brown cardboard and considerably flatter than Kieren's but it made him smile no less than Rick had. 

“Just stand right below my window, I'll drop it down” Rick meant, already leaning over the windowsill, making the drop a little shorter. Kieren caught the box, hearing something inside clatter. 

“Open it!” Rick said, excitedly. 

“But you can't open yours.”

“I don't care. Open it. I wanna see your face.”

Curious, Kieren worked the sellotape off, his cold fingers having a hard time cooperating with him. But eventually, he lifted the lid and let it slide off and onto the frosty ground. 

Inside, bedded on dark blue tissue paper lay a pack of artist's brushes and a handful of acrylic colours. The brushes ranged from incredibly thin and perfect for small details to big enough to paint a wall. Kieren was absolutely in awe by his present. The colours, very expensive, had been on his wishlist for ages. But he couldn't recall ever telling Rick about them. The rich red and sun flower yellow and deep forest greed were making his hands tingle in anticipation to use them.

“Usually, people say 'thank you'” Rick joked. 

Kieren continued staring at his gift. Only after a few more heartbeats he could manage to look away and up at his best friend who was smiling knowingly. 

“Thank you” Kieren whispered, too silent for Rick to catch. But his friend nodded, having understood nonetheless.

“You're welcome. Did you know, that those are based on the colours that van Gogh used? Pretty cool, huh?”

“It's amazing” Kieren answered, slightly more audible. He wanted to run up and hug his friend he wanted to be able to properly voice his gratitude and he wanted to go back home and paint with his new utensils. All he could muster was a very big smile and an additional “seriously, mate. Thank you so much. I love it!”.

“You're welcome. Now off you go before you freeze to death. Also I can see how badly you want to try them out. Just make sure you show me what you've painted, artist boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao i also just did the math on my plan like 36 chapters?? i probably won't do that, oops  
> but anyways, this fic is long af and sad af and fluffy af so i hope you like it!!
> 
> comments && kudos are more than appreciated!!


	4. The Runaways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no additional warnings

Kieren ran away the first time when he was thirteen. He had had an argument with his mother about a bad grade in history, she had grounded him, he had yelled at her and then later snuck out of his room and gone he was.

He hid in the woods, heading nowhere in particular. Just away. His mother had been so disappointed in him. He'd never gotten a worse grade than a B and now a D in history? He didn't know how that could have happened. No, that was a lie. He hadn't gone to a few of his afternoon history classes to watch Rick's soccer practice. It hadn't felt like a big deal, then. He was still on top of the homework and he understood the topic. Only being absent and his classmates not particularly caring about him, Kieren hadn't known about the class test and failed miserably. They had even started on a new topic! He felt so stupid.

He screamed at the sky until his throat hurt and tears stung in his eyes. When his parents found out they would surely forbid him from seeing Rick anymore. They would ground him for weeks and make sure he got home in time and had no contact with his best friend anymore. The thought made his heart hurt and his head spin. 

Kicking at shrubs and punching tree trunks only helped so much and when dusk fell, Kieren went back. Things would only get worse the longer he stayed gone. Angry and embarrassed, he found his parents waiting for him, furious. 

“What did you think you were doing?” his father scolded, disappointment written all over his face. His mother just shook her head.

“Your mother and I were worried sick! Did you even think about that? Did you, for one second, think about anyone else apart from yourself, young man?”

Kieren said nothing. He turned his face from them, hoping they couldn't see the tears welling up in his eyes. Their accusations made him sick to the stomach. He didn't like seeing his parents disappointed in him. He liked even less, knowing he deserved it. 

“You're grounded for an extra week. And don't think I won't make sure you come home in time every day instead of prowling around for hours with that Macy boy.”

“That's not fair!” Kieren exclaimed, half crying half angry. “Rick's got nothing to do with this.”

“Oh really? Then I must've imagined you spending every minute of every day with him instead of doing your homework!”

“That's not his fault” Kieren said, sniffling. His mother looked close to giving in but his father held his hand on her shoulder as to hold her back. 

“Grounded. Two weeks. Homework. That's my last word.”

Kieren opened his mouth, wanting to throw something back but he couldn't. His mind couldn't work through the haze and so he just stomped away to his room, making a big deal about slamming his door. He threw himself onto his bed, finally letting the tears come.

When he could cry no more, Kieren lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. It all felt so unreal. His parents had never yelled at him before. On the other hand, he had never skipped school before. He felt ashamed finding himself blaming Rick. No, it was his fault. Rick hadn't made him skip, he had done it on his own account. And he would take his punishment like a man.

He got up and moved to his desk, cluttered, as per usual. Carelessly, Kieren brushed the sketches and pencils and books and random items off his desk, hearing them fall down and crumble on the floor. Afterwards, he spent hours reading the chapters he'd missed in class, taking notes and highlighting paragraphs until almost two in the morning. Only then he let himself sleep, the anger almost all gone. Two weeks were nothing. He would use the time to get his work done and maybe cram in a few extra essays here and there for an even better grade.

And then his parents would know that they shouldn't blame Rick. They knew him. They knew he was a good boy he was smart and he did well in school and sports. His mother even talked about him highly when he wasn't there. And he would prove to them that Rick wasn't a bad but a good influence on him.

***

“You really ran away?” Rick said, eyes big. They sat next to each other on the bench at recess and Kieren had recalled his weekend spent studying for history and how he was grounded and why.

“Just for a few hours. And I was just in the woods. But still. I was so angry.”

“Parents can be such jerks” Rick commented, before biting into his sandwich. They watched the other children play or sit around like them. The day was beautiful and golden, soon school would be finished and summer would come with its adventures waiting for them to have.

“Mine aren't, usually. You know them. They were just sad I didn't score as high as I normally would have.”

“Still. Grounding is shitty.”

Kieren shrugged at that.

“And what about me, anyway? What do I do for two weeks while you're a prisoner?”

“Maybe you could try learning, too?” That was a joke. Rick was top in most of his classes except for art and physics. There, he was only third or fourth best.

“Haha. Shit! Is she coming over to us?”

Rick squirmed uncomfortably and as Kieren turned around, he saw Abbey and her friends Chelsea and Brooke head towards them. 

“Why are they coming here?” Rick whispered, almost trying to hide behind Kieren. Hilarious, considering that he was almost twice as wide and at least twenty inches taller. 

“Hey, Rick” Abbey greeted. She had her hair pulled back in a bun and her mustard coloured sweater complimented her dark skin and eyes. Abbey Williams was a beautiful girl.

“Umm... hey” Rick greeted back, his usual sly smirk replaced with an unsure grin. 

“So, I was wondering if you wanted to, like, do something this weekend.”  
Rick's eyes darted from her to Kieren, who was only half-heartedly concealing his bemusement, and back to her. 

“Oh, he can't come. Sorry. It's only a party for our year.”

“No problem” Kieren said, giving Rick a nudge with his elbow. “But he would absolutely love to com, wouldn't you, Rick?”

A little lost, Rick looked at Kieren again, then he nodded and cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah. I'd like to come!”

“Amazing! I'll give you the details after track tonight. See you then!”

“See you” Rick waved, a little too late, as she and her friends had already turned around and wandered off. Rick exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumping. “I'm so weird” he said to his knees.

Kieren gave him a clap on the back, still finding it all too funny to see his friend act incredibly awkward for the first time ever. “Nah, you did great, mate. I bet she's already planning your wedding.”

“Shut up.” He gave Kieren a playful push but he laughed now, himself. Running his hand over his short cropped hair he added: “We're both weirdos. How are we ever going to find a girlfriend?”

The bell rang, announcing the end of recess and Kieren and Rick got up, walking back inside, both to their respective classes. For some reason, Kieren found himself pondering on Rick's words. He had noticed Rick's interest in Abbey many months ago and she obviously liked him, too. But him? He had never so much as looked at a girl for longer than necessary. Maybe he was the weird one.

***

“Let's run away.”

“What?” Kieren had been engrossed in his sketchbook, drawing the soccer players from the side. He hadn't noticed Rick jogging over to him. 

“Let's run away. You and me. Right now.”

“And I repeat: what?”

Rick rolled his eyes, annoyed. He tucked at Kieren's arm, dragging him along and away from the soccer field where the other players were standing in groups and chatting their break away.

When they were out of sight behind the restrooms, Rick let go of Kieren who stared at him, confused. “What's wrong?”

His friend didn't answer right away, apparently not having had the time to plan ahead. “I don't know. Let's just go.” His cheeks were starting to turn a deep shade of red. 

“Rick. What. Happened.”

Sensing that his spiel of secrecy was over, Rick looked over his shoulder and then sighed. He shook his head at Kieren. “Abbey tried to kiss me.”  
The statement stood between them, uncommented for a few seconds. Surprised, Kieren felt that it weighed heavy on him.

“So?” he said, still not really understanding what was going on neither with Rick and Abbey nor with himself.

“I just... I bolted. She leaned towards me, all kissing-business and I just turned and ran.” Theatrically, Rick leaned with his back against the brick building, sliding down slowly. He buried his head in his arms, groaning. “This is the most embarrassed I've ever been.”

“What about the time we dyed our hair green, does that count?” Kieren offered jokingly, sitting down next to the other boy. Rick didn't laugh.

“Ten times worse than green hair. Twelve, maybe. Ugh! That's why we've got to run away. I never want to see her again. I'd die right on the spot.”

Rick sounded truly miserable and Kieren's bemusement turned into worry for his friend. He put his hand on Rick's shoulder.

“Why is it so weird with girls” Rick asked, turning his head to face Kieren. “Why am I so weird around Abbey. It's not like I didn't want to kiss her. I think.”

Kieren just listened, unsure whether Rick wanted him to say anything or if he just needed to vent. Anyway, Kieren didn't feel like he could offer anything. He felt off and unrelating to the situation, like when he watched the team play soccer. Theoretically, Kieren understood the game and what the players did. But practically, he wouldn't be able to play it himself without tripping and breaking something.

“Maybe I should marry the Fish-Killer from back then” Rick laughed, dryly and without humour. 

“No kissing with him. Only disemboweling.”

“Or I could marry you.” 

“Yeah, even better. I'd do neither.”

They sat for a while, Rick groaning occasionally and Kieren joking occasionally. 

“We won't run away, will we?” Rick asked, getting back onto his feet. He offered his hand to Kieren who took it.

“Nah. I don't think the runaway life is for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tiny babies  
> please comment below thank you <33


	5. Summer

That year, summer in Roarton was unusually bright and sunny. And warm. Temperatures over 30°C lured the children and teens out of their homes and to lakes and public swimming pools. 

For the first week, Kieren was still grounded, spending all of his time inside, studying or in the garden, studying. After four of seven days, his dad lifted the punishment, allowing him both to go to the public pool and to do so with Rick.

“So you've given up on trying to devoid my life from all the fun” Kieren joked and his dad shook his head.

“Don't try me, you can be grounded again just as fast.” But there was no spite behind his words. The best thing about Steve Walker was, that he was the most forgiving person. 

“Can I take Jem to the pool with me?” Kieren asked, following his father inside, books under his arm, thinking that he would probably not take a peek inside them for as long as summer would last.

“Sure, if she wants.”

Kieren had already run past his father and up the stairs, headed to his younger sister's room. 

Kieren adored Jem. She was kind and had a big heart, like all of his family. They could confide in each other where they would tell no one else. They would get up to mischief as well as have the best ideas. 

“Jem?” Kieren knocked on her door before opening it. He found his sister sat on her bed, reading a book. 

“Hey, bookworm” he teased, plopping down next to her. She didn't look up but put her finger to her lips. 

“Shhh... it's the third to last chapter!”

“Oh. The plot thickens” Kieren said, trying to read what she was reading. He didn't recognize the story. So she still hadn't started on Harry Potter like he had bothered her about for literal years.

“Yep. Exactly.” She still looked up at her older brother, though, her finger marking the word she had stopped reading at. “What d'you want?”

“Just wanted to ask you if you wanna come to the pool with Rick and me.”

To his surprise, Jem looked absolutely horrified at that statement, frantically shaking her head. “Nuh-uh, no way, thanks but no thanks.”

“What's the matter, Jem? Scared of the sun?” Kieren tried to joke the worries away that were already starting to build up in his chest. His sister had never declined an offer to go somewhere, especially with him and especially the pool. 

“I don't wanna” she exclaimed, returning her attention to her book before Kieren could say anything else. He let her read for a minute or two.

“Do you want to tell me why you don't want to come?” he offered as non-intrusive as he could, basically tiptoeing around her as to not alarm her. No matter how well they got along 99% of the time, Jemima could be really unfriendly sometimes. And then he could too. It never lasted long but when they fought, it was nasty.

“Nope.”

Defeated before the fight had even started, Kieren sighed and got up from the bed. He didn't want to ruin his and Jem's day. If she didn't want to come along, that was her business and he would wait patiently until she was ready to tell.

A hand on the hem of his shirt stopped him in his track.

“I don't wanna go because of the other girls. They're all so pretty and I'm still so … so. I don't want them to laugh at me.” 

“Hey” he said, softly, turning toward her, kneeling down so they were eye-to-eye. He gave her an encouraging smile to which she replied with a huff and a downcast sight. Kieren's heart had always been fragile but it was even more so when it came to his baby sister.

“I promise you, no one will think you're any less pretty than the other girls.” Jem sniffled in response. Kieren changed his tactic. “And if anyone so much as looks at you wrong, I'll be sure to make them stop.” Still no sign that his words had resonated with her in any way. Change of tactic, again. 

“Maybe mum will drive us to the mall first and then you can pick out a new swimsuit first to knock them all out of their flip flops .”

They stayed like that, for a little while, Kieren kneeling on the floor and Jem sat cross-legged on the bed, avoiding looking at her brother. When she didn't give in, Kieren got up and left. He could sense that Jem would need to figure things out for herself, first. He would get her some ice cream on the way back to cheer her up, though.

In his room, he grabbed the walkie talkie he had gotten for Rick and himself last Christmas. 

“Rick. You there? Over.”

Nothing. Static.

“Yeah. What's up? Over.”

“Wanna go to the public pool? Over”

A pause. 

“Sure. Is Jem going to join us? Over.”

“Nope. She's reading a book. She's really engrossed in it.”

“You didn't say 'over'. Over.”

“Over. Anyway, I'll be at yours in ten minutes, be at the ready. Over.”

“Aye aye. Over and out.”

“Over and out.”

***

The public pool was a little away, halfway to school. Kieren and Rick took the bike in the heat. Kieren started regretting it five minutes in.

“This was the worst idea” Kieren groaned, already feeling as if he was melting. Rick held up much better.

“Yeah. It's like 40°C I can feel my brain cooking up there” his friend said, pointing at his forehead. Kieren laughed, which send him swerving and he had to stifle his amusement so he wouldn't crash.

“The pool is going to be more people than water” Kieren complained. There were many small villages and slightly larger small towns in the area and they were headed to the only public pool in the middle of one of the best summer's they had ever had. The pool would probably be filled to the brim with sweaty people and screaming children and complaining elderly. Suddenly, the public pool seemed like the worst possible destination.

“Then let's not go there” Rick decided, turning left, abruptly, heading down a small, sandy footpath between two fields of barley. 

Kieren almost fell when he turned as well and followed Rick down the hilly path. 

“Where are we going, then?” Kieren asked, cicadas almost drowning out his words. Rick seemed to have heard him, though, because he extended his arm and pointed onward. 

“Somewhere cool” he simply meant and then they were back to driving in the seething heat and Kieren complaining about it, regretting ever having left his air conditioned bedroom.

***

At the end of the two fields, Rick lead Kieren to the left hand side. They were now between a field and a small river with close to no water in it. The brown muddy thing didn't seem inviting and Kieren hoped that this wasn't Rick's idea of a pool subsequent.

Thankfully, Rick soon enough turned and drove over a small, wooden bridge and on they went. Only when a forest came in sight, Rick started to further explain where they were going.

“I found it when I was out here exploring on my own while you were grounded. I almost fell down the cliff but when I went around it, there it was.”

“There was what?” Kieren asked but Rick had gone silent once again.

In between the tall, lushly green trees, the air seemed at least 10°C cooler. Kieren wanted to laugh in excitement as an actual breeze ruffled his already sweat damp hair. They drove for a little longer, Rick leading him left and right and wherever and Kieren was starting to wonder, if this was some kind of practical joke, that they would come out of the woods and be just where they started, when Rick stopped. They had reached what looked like the end of the world if it hadn't been for the trees that went on afterward.

“So, this is the cliff” Rick explained, proudly. He let his bike fall to the side and walked towards the sudden end. Kieren followed him. Looking down, he could see a clearing and some rocks.

“Yeah, very cool” he said, sarcastically. “Rocks!”

“Shut up, this isn't it, yet. Come on!” Rick excitedly jogged down the side of the cliff they had come from and then rounded it. His slight annoyance turning to curiosity with every step, Kieren tagged along and when they had reached the bottom of the hill, he was not let down.

“Ta da!” Rick exclaimed, posing with both arms outstretched towards a big, gaping, circular opening in a steep rock wall. The black hole looked like the mouth of a big animal. Kieren craned his neck to see where they had stood up on the cliff and looked down. He was trembling with excitement. 

“Have you been inside, yet?” he asked, advancing on the cave. The closer he got, the more menacing the opening looked but it only furthered his amazement. 

“Nope, I wanted to do that with you!”

Next to him, Rick was squatting down to be able to look directly into the black tunnel. He shot a smile up at Kieren. “You ready?”

“Yeah!”

Rick went first, only because Kieren insisted on it. He had found the cave, after all. And if a hungry bear was waiting on the inside, he wouldn't want to be the first one to greet him. 

The air inside was even cooler than in the forest and not as humid as Kieren had thought. Their sounds were amplified and echoed back at them from the close walls. Rick even had to bend down a little to fit. The tunnel was also longer than Kieren would have anticipated. It seemingly went on forever, darker and darker, cooler and cooler until Rick took out a flashlight from his backpack.

“You brought a flashlight? We were going to go to the pool” Kieren said, his voice sounding strange in the cave. Rick just chuckled. Maybe this had been his plan all along. 

After a long while, the tunnel walls started to drift farther apart and the ceiling heightened until they were standing in a cave big enough for both of them to stand and walk around. Which they did, examining everything, running their fingers along the rough rock surfaces and shouting to hear their echo shout back. 

“This is incredible” Kieren said, sitting down. He had brought his backpack as well and he offered Rick a muesli bar. 

“Yeah, it is, isn't it?” Rick was just as much amazed by his find as Kieren was, eyes round and big to take everything in. He took the snack and sat down opposite to Kieren, their legs touching. 

“Now we have a clubhouse” Rick said, biting into his muesli bar but the other boy scrunched up his nose. 

“That sounds stupid.”

“What? Clubhouse?”

“Yeah. We need a better name for it” Kieren decided and started offering some, all of which Rick declined. 

“Homestead sounds even more stupid, no way. How about the mancave?”

“Like neanderthals?”

“Okay, maybe not” Rick laughed. 

“The Den?”

“Den?”

“Like bears have or badgers, a den.”

Rick seemed to think about that but Kieren liked it better than any of their other suggestions and the other came to the same conclusion.

“The Den it is.”

Rick brushed his empty muesli bar wrapper against the wall. “Now it's christened.”

“I'm pretty sure that's not how you christen something” Kieren said but he was already cracking a smile. 

“Oh yeah? Mr I-Know-About-Religion how do you christen a cave, then?”

“Hah, young man, I am glad you asked. It is rather easy. You take your right hand. No, your right hand. Yep. And you put it on the cave wall. And then you take your other hand and you high five your best friend. Congratulations. You have now successfully christened this cave The Den.”

The last few words were lost in laughter as Rick held his stomach and Kieren doubled over, their echoes laughing with them, filling The Den with the sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really love writing this story aah!!


	6. Vol. I

Secondary School was when Jem started tiptoeing. At first, they laughed at it, thinking it a mere practical joke. “Haha, Jem is doing the tiptoe-thing again, classic.” But when she didn't stop, that was when they started to worry.

Week three of non-stop walking on her toes, Mrs Walker called a doctor. Kieren, lounging in the living room with Rick, supposedly doing homework but really passing inside jokes between each other, overheard the call happening in the next door room.

“No, listen, doctor, we've tried talking her out of this … this nonsense.” Silence. Sue sighed, exaggeratively and Kieren pictured her shaking her head along with it. “Seriously, it's not funny. Her teachers are starting to suggest keeping her home until she's done with it. Apparently, it's upsetting for the other - .“ Silence again. Kieren kicked Rick, who lay on the floor, with his foot against the shoulder to get him to listen, too. The other boy looked up from his half-finished essay about ancient Rome. 

“What?” he whispered, sensing that it wasn't the time for speaking loudly.

“They're talking about Jem” Kieren whispered back, cocking his head sideways, indicating the kitchen. “Mum and a doctor.”

“You're worried?” Rick asked, furrowing his brows. He did that a lot, recently and it reminded Kieren of Bill Macy a little too much for his liking. 

“Yeah. She's my kid sister.”

“She's gonna be fine. Maybe it's just a phase” Rick suggested, shrugging his shoulders. 

“When has anyone ever heard of a tiptoeing-phase.”

When he heard his mother's voice again, he shushed Rick, who was just about to say something and turned his head toward the kitchen. His mother must have moved, as her words were less audible now. Instead of whole sentences, Kieren could only make out words and snippets.

“… she's a kid, still. …. started Secondary School … bullying? … on Wednesday, okay … thank you, doctor.”

“What do you think that means?” Rick asked when they had heard Mrs Walker leave, presumably to talk to Mr Walker. “On Wednesday?”

“Guess they'll take her to the doctor's office for them to bother her and put her on meds or something” Kieren sulked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. His homework lay forgotten on his legs. He had other things to occupy himself with than geometry, now.

“What now?” Rick was still whispering.

“I don't know. Do we tell her?”

“Don't you think it's good, when a professional tries their hand at the situation? I mean, no offense, but it is a little weird what she's doing.”

Kieren would always defend Rick. He would, if he had to, go up against three Bill Macy's and a Brock Worthington just to make his best friend smile. He would walk the earth all by himself if that meant helping him. But even more than that, Kieren would do anything and everything for his family, especially his sister.

“No offense but you're a dick” he said, as spitefully as he could muster, throwing Rick a dirty look. 

His friend seemed shocked, his eyes wide.

“Sorry?” 

“You heard me. Don't insult my sister. She's not weird.” 

“Kieren, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that” Rick said, making sure every word held as much meaning as it could. Rick was good at those kinds of things and Kieren found his anger vanishing bit by bit. “I shouldn't have called her weird. I am worried, just as you are. I just want her to get help, if she needs any.”

“Yeah, you shouldn't have” Kieren commented, but his words had no edge to them anymore. His tense shoulders relaxed again. “'m sorry for overreacting. I just don't like anyone speaking like that about her, even you.”

Rick nodded and that simple gesture made it clear for Kieren, that he understood far better than he thought he would have. They returned to their homework, then but Kieren had lost all interest in the school work. He was still thinking about Jem. He didn't want any doctors telling her she was weird or wrong or needed to change.

***

The doctor's didn't know why Jem tiptoed. They handed her case over to a therapist who tried himself at her once every two weeks. They even got her special shoes that were meant to prevent her from tiptoeing. Only, Jem took them off whenever as their parents were out of sight.

One day, at the busstop, Kieren witnessed her, again, taking of the clogs and changing them for ballerinas. Up on her toes, again. Their parents had no clue she did it.

“Are the other kids mean to you” Kieren asked her. Rain pattered against the plastic bus shelter, washing colour out of the posters and flyers that covered the outside walls, advertising long ago parties and selling bikes and asking for babysitters. 

“I wouldn't know” Jem said, simply and the conversation was over. 

The sound of rain didn't leave the whole day, an everlasting rhythm in Kieren's head.

***

“What are the most rude songs you know.”

“What kind of question is that?” Rick asked. They were walking back home from school, taking the long way around. The one, that lead them through fields that bloomed with wildflowers in the warmer months and old dirt roads that no one had used for decades. The one that made them feel like the only two people in the world, if only for half an hour.

“Just a question” Kieren meant, taking the lead, his outstretched hand gliding through the wind over the high grass, barely touching it. “I'm making a mixtape and I need more songs to put on it.”

Instead of a song recommendation, Rick walked up to Kieren's side, staring at him, eyebrow cocked. “Who are you making a mixtape for, then? Anyone I should know about?”

Rolling his eyes, Kieren put a jump in his walk every few steps just because he knew it annoyed Rick whenever he did that. “Oh … you would like to know, wouldn't you?”

“Is it a girl?” Rick asked, sounding far more eager than necessary. 

The early spring sun was sending warm rays down and the crispness of the air was refreshing instead of biting. A harsh winter with a lot of snow in January, causing bus troubles and therefore weeks of snow days, lay behind Roarton. A warm spring was widely anticipated. Kieren's birthday would be in a few weeks, he thought. 

“Yep.”

“From your year?” Rick continued. He sounded genuinely intrigued but something about it didn't sit right with Kieren. It seemed almost as if Rick did and simultaneously didn't want to know.

“No, she's younger.”

“Younger? Who is it, come on, mate.”

“You know her.”

Rick looked startled and then realisation crossed his features for a split second. It turned into a thin lipped grin and something like concern. Sadness?

“Seriously? I'm starting to believe you're making this up, if this is about Abbey -”

“It's Jem, you idiot. I'm making a mixtape for Jem.”

Obviously embarrassed, Rick put his hands in the pockets of his coat, hunching his shoulders to hide the red that was creeping up his neck. “Course … I knew that.”

“Sure. So, do you know any rude songs? I mean with swearwords, punk songs. Where people yell at the world and stuff.”

For a few minutes, Rick didn't answer. Instead, he walked silently besides Kieren, who had abandoned his frolicking. He was blushing, still, when he talked again.

“Why are you making her a rude mix CD anyway?” Rick wanted to know.

Kieren shrugged, kicking at a pebble. “I think I know why she's tiptoeing.”

Curious, Rick asked him what he meant by that but Kieren didn't answer. He didn't want to talk about it without Jem's consent, not even to Rick. A little downcast but understanding, Rick offered to come by later that day with some of his rudest CD's. Not everyone would have been satisfied not knowing, Kieren thought. But Rick had never been like everyone else.

***

When Rick entered his bedroom, Kieren sat on the floor, surrounded by CD's and scraps of paper. He looked desperate and tired. 

“What's that one song called?” he asked, letting the back of his head rest against his bed to look up at his friend. The other looked amused as he sat down next to Kieren, letting his gaze wander around the mess of a room. 

Recently, Kieren had painted his walls a dark shade of red, making the small, confined space even smaller. Kieren thought it was cozy, his mother had called it constrictive. Some of Kieren's sketches and acrylic paintings had been hung up for display, something he wouldn't have liked anyone else apart from his family and best friend to see. 

Even after he had been drawing for years, obviously improving and advancing, Kieren still felt self-conscious about his art, something very personal to him. A part of himself brought to a canvas. His soul, exposed, in colour. 

But seeing Rick marvel at them made him glad he had dared to show them off. The look of wonder on his friend's face as his eyes fell upon a particular sketch, made him smile warmly.

“That's me” Rick said, brightly, pointing at the ripped out sketchbook page that hung in a cluster with many others over Kieren's desk. 

Still smiling, Kieren nodded. He felt a bit embarrassed but mostly, there was pride in his voice as he said: “It's one of my most recent drawings. From when we were at The Den last Saturday and you were doing your reading for the literature course.”

Rick didn't take his eyes off the sketch. “It's fantastic” he said, happiness laced into every letter, every syllable rich with awe. Kieren could feel his heart skip a beat.

“You can have it, if you want to” he offered, a little bit unsure despite knowing that Rick was being nothing but genuine.

Only then, Rick turned toward his friend. “Are you kidding? Really?”

If possible, Kieren smiled even wider at that. This must be how real artists felt when people admired their works in museums. He couldn't keep his hands from shaking.

“Sure, I'd love that!” 

And then, Rick pulled him into a hug. It was something the two boys hadn't done for a while, deeming it “uncool” and “not appropriate for their age”. But the warmth of Rick's hands on his back, the other's heartbeat so close to his own, his breath against his neck, Kieren would have wanted for it to last forever.

All too soon, Rick let go off him to get up and take the drawing off the wall, very careful as to not rip it or smudge the pencil lines. Kieren watched the other boy tentatively putting it in his backpack, save and sound between the pages of his spiral-bound note pad before he showed him a handful of CD's.

“These were all I could find” he said but he didn't sound disappointed. It were at least five, three of which Kieren didn't own himself. He took the CD's to read the tracklists. He could feel that his ears had gone red.

When they had decided on twenty four extremely loud and incredibly graphic songs, the two boys headed downstairs. Kieren was an experienced mix CD maker and popped the silver plates into the computer slot with naturalness. Rick had taken a chair a little behind Kieren, watching over his friend's shoulder as he copied and pasted the songs onto the Desktop and later, putting them onto an empty CD. When he was finished, he took out a big, black marker from the mug of pens on the table and scribbled “For Jem – you're tougher than nails” onto it's matte surface. 

“That's so cool” Rick commented as they both regarded the freshly put together mix. 

“It's nothing” Kieren brushed it off. “Wanna listen to it?”

“Hell yeah!”

The rest of the afternoon was spent lying on Kieren's bed listening to the men and women on the tracks screaming at society and cursing grown ups and praising individuality. Only when they heard the car with the three other Walkers pull up into the driveway did they stop the CD, in the middle of it's third runthrough. Kieren had to hurry to place it on Jem's pillow and run back into his room before she reached the top of the stairs. 

“You think she's gonna like it?” Rick whispered as they both tried to peer through Kieren's adjacent bedroom door. But Jem had closed hers. 

“No” Kieren said, a knowing smile forming on his lips. “I think she's gonna love it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> question 1: when kieren gave jem the mix cd: answered


	7. Shitfaced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> language  
> alcohol abuse

He had been happy, Kieren tried to tell himself. In the beginning, he had been happy for them.

It didn't bother him that Rick and Abbey started going out and doing stuff without him. “I really like her, Kieren.”

I'm so happy for you.

He was okay with Rick spending time with her, to share his friend with someone else. “I hope you're cool with that.”

Yes, of course.

He didn't care that it became more and more rare that Rick would only hang out with him and not invite Abbey along. “It doesn't bother you, right?” 

No, of course not.

Kieren could only lie to himself so much.

Because the truth of it was, Kieren felt terribly and utterly alone. He hadn't really noticed, as it hadn't mattered, that besides Rick, there was no one. And now that Rick had someone else, it was all the more prominent that Kieren was left with only himself. Kieren wasn't good at being alone.

Annoyance soon turned into sadness when week two of close to no contact came and went. Kieren hadn't even dared to show up to the soccer practice on Thursday. It would have been unbearable to see the two on the field together. 

Kieren would give anything to be happy for Rick and he tried, he really did. He was supposed to be supportive of his best friend, after all. Then why did it hurt so badly to see the other happy with someone else?

When it all became too much and too confusing to think about, Kieren went to the shops. It was surprisingly easy to purchase the beer, the cashier only interested in the nearing end of his shift, handing Kieren the bottle naturally.

The setting sun dipped the world in burnt orange as Kieren made his way toward what had become his physical escape from his thoughts. In The Den, Kieren drank from the bottle, letting the liquid soften the edges of his mind and slow his heartbeat. He drank until it became easier to ignore the stinging sensation in his ribcage. He drank and sang along to song from his walkman and he drank and cried until his tears had dried.

***

Kieren stayed in his hideaway until his throbbing headache demanded for him to get back home. His parents had thankfully gone to bed already because had they seen their son stumble up the stairs they would have noticed right away. Having toppled over twice before reaching the top of the staircase, Kieren reached his bedroom not only with pain behind his eyes but also in his shins. 

Falling onto his bed he wondered if life for him would be like this forever. If he would drink himself into bliss to forget the inexplicable pain in his chest while his parents and sister slept peacefully and his best friend barely knew him anymore. The line of thought stopped abruptly, interrupted by a choked sob and hot tears streaming down Kieren's face. The unfairness of it all was too much to hold in. Even the alcohol hadn't numbed it for longer than a few hours.

He kicked at shadows clawed at his face, screamed into his pillow. Nothing helped to relieve the overwhelmingness of losing his best friend to a Abbey Williams.

The sketches of people watched him from his wall as he finally calmed down enough to pull the blanket around himself. He had left his walkman in The Den, he noticed, which brought a fresh wave of tears to his eyes.

Were all fourteen year old so sad? he wondered as he drifted off into nothingness.

***

June came and went and soon summer hit Roarton Valley with all it's force. Heat waves rolled over the fields, turning them brown and dry and boiling between the houses and filling the narrow streets. Cicadas the only animals that dared to be outside. The summer holidays were going to be no less unpleasantly hot than the last. 

His sister, Jem had gotten accepted to a summer camp and would be away for the first two weeks. She had been so excited, reading the letter to all of her family individually. Kieren had smiled at her, wishing her the best of times. Her best friend Lisa Lancaster would also attend. The two of them were rarely seen apart these days. It tugged painfully at something inside Kieren.

Below the cloudless sky, Kieren was headed toward The Den, walkman, beer and his sketchbook in a backpack with him. For the past week he had come there every evening. He couldn't say that it helped, at all but it was becoming a routine and he felt comforted by that. Maybe he would get used to Rick not being there as well, someday.

As he neared the cave, the searing sun already unbearable upon his blond hair, he almost felt content with the prospect of getting drunk and forgetting about the world outside the thick walls of The Den for another few hours. Almost.

Inside, the air was noticeably cooler and Kieren was glad that now that school was over he hadn't had to wait until the later hours to come here. It was barely midday when he opened the bottle and let took the first sip. He willed himself to relax, the luke warm liquid inside his mouth the only thing that felt true.

***

He must have fallen asleep because when he heard the first noise, he bolted upright and his head felt like shit. It took him a few seconds to understand where he was and why he felt heavy and slow and a few more to remember what had woken him from his dreamless nap.

Just as he thought, he might have imagined the noises, he heard them again, louder this time, more clearly headed towards him. Footsteps on the forest floor, the crunching of dried leaves and the breaking of small twigs. Kieren blinked, trying to see outside but the tunnel that lay between the main cave and the forest was too long and winding to see anything but blinding white.

And then a silhouette appeared, a shadow blocking out the sunlight. Kieren stopped breathing. The figure moved but he couldn't tell in which direction. His intoxicated mind wasn't able to process what was happening.

Before he could even move, the silhouette turned into a distinctively human shape and then they were close enough for Kieren to recognize the broad shoulders, the pale face, the short cropped hair and the dark eyes.

“Rick?”

Startled, obviously not having expected anyone to be there, Rick froze where he was standing, a look of complete surprise on his face. “Kieren? What? What are you doing here?” 

Kieren shifted, nervously, as the other entered the small cave. They hadn't talked in what felt like years and now they would meet again, while Kieren was absolutely shitfaced? He could feel himself blush.

“What are you doing here” he said, hoping that the dimness of their hideout would make the change of colour in his face go unnoticed. Hoping, that the echoes didn't betray his lazy tongue and sluggish words. Rick's raised eyebrow must've caught onto at least one of those things.

“Kieren, are you drunk?” 

Yeah. “No.”

He didn't know what he had expected, really. Rick to get angry? Rick to laugh at him? Rick to get up and leave the cave? Whatever it was, he hadn't expected this; a smirk, the slightest shake of a head and a hand taking his half empty beer from where it was hastily hidden behind a rock. Rick took a swig of the beer, taking his time to swallow, his head leaning against the cavewall. 

“The world's a fucked up place” he finally proclaimed into the warm air. 

“Okay” Kieren said, uncomfortable. Rick had basically ignored him for the past two weeks and now he was just going to pretend like they'd seen each other yesterday? Like this was what they did? No, this was what Kieren did. It was his thing. Not Rick's and especially not their's. 

Suddenly angry, Kieren leaned forward, snatching the bottle out of Rick's hand, taking it back. Almost protectively, he held it in both hands. 

“What's the matter with you?” Rick asked. He sounded annoyed.

“With me? You come in here like … like … like it's something you still do! And you sit down and you take this” he stopped to hold the bottle of liquid up in the air, giving it a shake, the beer sloshing loudly, “as if it's okay.”

“Why are you so pissed at me, mate?”

“Oh, why am I – ? I haven't heard shit from you for like two weeks and you don't even care to say sorry!”

Rick's face screwed up, then and the mood in The Den shifted, drastically. All the fire behind Kieren's words was doused by tears, that welled up in Rick's eyes. All the spiteful words he had lined up were drowned in the agonized eyes before him. The boy drew in a shaky breath, his shoulders twitching with the effort to keep himself from crying. 

“Abbey broke up with me.”

The confession hung between the two boys for a long time, only interrupted by Rick's attempt at stifling the sobs that threatened to overcome him. Kieren looked at his friend, letting the words sink in.

His limbs were stiff from not moving for hour and his head hurt from drinking too many beers but Kieren got up from his sitting position and stood in front of Rick, whose eyes were already red and puffy. He looked down at his best friend, so heartbreakingly heartbroken that he felt tears sting in his own eyes.

“Move” Kieren demanded, softly. When Rick obliged, he sat down next to the other, their shoulders brushing together as he slid down the stone and onto the sandy floor.

He held Rick in his arms as he weeped for his first love, stroking over his tense back and over his short hair, telling him all the things he longed to hear. That it would be okay. That Abbey didn't deserve someone like him anyway. That he would feel better soon. That he would find someone else, someone better. That he would be happy again.

“You're my best friend, Ren” Rick said, his voice husky from crying. “Promise me, we'll always be best friends.”

Only because Rick couldn't see him from where he had laid his head into Kieren's lap, the blond boy smiled. He let his hand brush over Rick's head once more, willing himself to remember this moment, to save it in his mind and heart. This moment of peaceful tragedy.

“Of course. It's us, forever.”


	8. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> strong language

It wasn't as easy to accustom to being best mates again as Kieren had hoped for. Instead, it was awkward. He was used to knowing every thing that was going on in Rick's life, almost better than his own and now he didn't really know anything. And vice versa. 

Even though Sue didn't seem all too happy – mere days ago her son had been quite clear about what he thought about Rick Macy – but allowed the two boys to have a sleepover. Kieren might have bribed her with doing the dishes for a week. 

“You've redecorated” are the first words Rick said after stepping into Kieren's bedroom. A place, the other boy remembered bitterly, he hadn't been in in almost two months.

“Yeah, a little.” It was really just new posters and a few acrylic drawings he'd finally taken the time to hang up and a cleaned desk but Rick's enthusiasm made him smile a bit. Rick could be so easily impressed sometimes. Kieren liked that about his friend. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been enthusiastic about something as simple as a tidied room.

Rick moved around, putting his backpack by the bed before sitting down on it. Kieren followed suit, leaving a few extra inches between them that wouldn't have been there two months ago.

“So” Kieren said, folding his hands in his lap, unsure what else to do with them.

“So” Rick parroted.

That was all of it for a while, leaving the two boys in uncomfortable silence and Kieren longing for easier days where they would talk for hours and hours about nothing in particular, the words never ending and never too heavy. Not like now, when there was a lump about to form in his throat, threatening to keep him from speaking altogether.

He had dreaded this moment. Back in the cave, it had seemed easier, his mind fuzzy with alcohol and Rick spilling out everything at once. But none of it had been what they really wanted – needed – to talk about. 

Thankfully, Rick spoke first.

“Listen, mate, I shouldn't have cut you out like that” he said, surprising Kieren with his straightforwardness. Sure, they had been frank with each other before but it wasn't usually Rick who initiated deeper conversations. And it also wasn't before 3am most of the times.

“It's alright” Kieren shrugged, lying about the sting he felt behind his ribs, still.

“Nah, don't say that 'cause it's not. It's not what friends do.”

Focusing on his own knees, Kieren said: “But you had a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, so? I'm almost sixteen I should be able to handle two friendships at once.”

Kieren thought, that that wasn't what he had meant but at the same time he didn't think he knew what he had meant instead. Why was it still so painful to think about Rick being with Abbey.

“It was a shitty thing to do, okay? I hurt you and I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness.”

Kieren felt the same nervousness that sounded from Rick's words inside of him. He felt it rushing through his veins, changing his heartbeat. He still didn't dare to look up and into Rick's face. Guilt washed over him.

What bullshit Rick was telling. Kieren would always be undeserving of his friendship, not the other way around. Of course he would take him back. He would always take him back.

“It's okay, really.”

“Kieren, look at me, please.”

It took all he had to restrain from shaking as he slowly turned his face towards Rick. His friend sat there, cross-legged on his bed, a soft smile on his lips and his eyes so very sad.

“Kieren, I need you to say that it wasn't okay. I need you to be angry with me. You can't just forgive me like that, that's … that's just not fair to you.”

“But I'm not angry anymore” Kieren said but his heart told a different story. He forced it to silence.

“Yeah you are” Rick said, raising his voice. “You are fucking furious with me! I'm supposed to be your best friend! And I just turned my back on you like it was nothing!”

Kieren's heart was beating heavily and he felt tears in his eyes. He tried to blink them away. This wasn't fair. Now, he couldn't bring himself to look away. Kieren knew he wouldn't last.

“You must feel like our friendship didn't mean anything to me. Like I was happier with her. Without you.”

Kieren's hands had started to shake. He was staring at Rick and Rick was staring back, his face red with shame. It was terrible, the things Rick said and it was terrible, the things Kieren thought in return.

“Be angry with me. Yell at me! Do something!”

And then he exploded. 

The fear, the anger, the loss, they all spilled out of him, hot and messy and overwhelming. He let out a wretched sob and his vision blurred, Rick becoming a smear of grey in front of him. 

“How could you” Kieren hiccoughed. He had balled his hands to fists, clawing at his bedding, grounding himself so he wouldn't lose himself completely.

“More” Rick demanded.

“You fucking left me.”

“Yeah, I did!”

“And I thought I'd lost you for good.”

“Of course you did, I never even answered to the walkie talkie.”

While Rick was getting louder and louder, Kieren's voice was getting smaller and weaker. 

Opposites, as always. Frustrated, all the same.

“I thought you hated me” Kieren said, almost whispering.

“And you hated me” Rick replied, almost yelling.

“I hated you.”

“Yes, you did.”

“What the fuck, Rick?”

“I don't know!” 

There was a moment of silence, like between thunder and lightning, the air still loaded with electricity. But now there were lighter clouds as well. Ones that would bring rain to wash the earth clean.

“But I don't hate you now” Kieren coaxed.

“I don't hate you either, Ren.”

The white hot inferno inside of him had sizzled down to a small flame, rendering Kieren tired, above all. He was still crying but his vision was no longer just tears. He saw Rick, his eyes watery. 

Only now he noticed that at some point Rick had put one of his hands on top of Kieren's, still clinging to his duvet. Suddenly, he was very aware of that small gesture, of the weight of Rick's hand, of the warmth of skin against skin.

“Did you love her?” Kieren asked, his gaze flickering from their hands to Rick's face.

“No” came the reply, almost instantly. Rick's face was flushed from crying and shouting. He wiped at a stray tear with his free hand. Kieren watched as it caught on the back of his hand, his heart hurt, conflicted.

“She asked me out” Rick added, as if that mattered. “And all my classmates have girlfriends.”

“You called me 'Ren'” Kieren exclaimed, suddenly not wanting to talk about Abbey anymore. Rick looked just as confused and embarrassed as Kieren felt, his eyebrows drawn together and his ears red.

“Short for Kieren.”

“No one calls me that” Kieren said.

“I do. Now.”

Kieren inhaled, deeply, letting in the cool afternoon air, concentrating on only the sensation of his lungs expanding. With his exhale, he closed his eyes for a moment, imagining everything streaming out alongside the air. The fear. The betrayal. The guilt. Until he was only left with exhaustion. And relief.

“Please don't start calling me Ricky, now” Rick said, faking a painful expression and earning something close to a smile from Kieren in return.

“Okay, I won't.”

“I didn't kiss her” Rick said, after some silence had passed again, less awkward than before. Less loaded with unspoken words. More easy to breathe.

“Okay” Kieren answered.

“I didn't want to kiss her” Rick continued.

“Okay” Kieren said, again. He noticed he hadn't let go of his duvet cover. And more than that, Rick hadn't retreated his hand that covered Kieren's. He caught Rick's eye, looking up from their joined hands and found the same exhaustion he felt but also, surprisingly, boldness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is for jules who is doing uni work to earn rickren fanfic chapters


	9. Vol. II

Kieren had wanted it to be a surprise. Their newly rekindled friendship was still something they both had to get used to. Yet they both seemed eager to learn again. To learn about each other. And to learn about them together.

They had agreed on meeting at The Den the next Tuesday, after Rick's football practice and Kieren's art class. Before Rick's practice would finish, there was a half hour time. Time, that Kieren used to ride his bike home, grab the surprise and arrive at The Den ten minutes before Rick. 

When he heard Rick enter the cave, Kieren cautiously threw his jacket over what he had prepared, not wanting to spoil anything in advance. 

Rick's hair was still damp from the shower he had taken after practice and he was out of breath from the bike journey but he grinned, nonetheless happy.

“Hey, Ren” he greeted him, sitting down against the opposite wall. Their usual spaces.

“How was practice?” Kieren asked. Small talk. They did that, nowadays. Kieren missed being able to start whole conversations out of the blue. But they would get there, he told himself. Eventually, everything would be back to how it had been before.

“Good. Good. I scored a goal.”

“I take, that that is a good thing?” Kieren attempted at a joke.

“Don't play daft, you've been watching us play for years. You must be a right pro, actually.”

“Yeah, I know all about the 'competitive ball kicking game' by now.”

They shared a laugh at that, Rick relaxing visibly and Kieren wondering, if the tension had been from the sports or from seeing his ex-girlfriend and teammate. Kieren didn't ask. He didn't want to know. Rick didn't say. He didn't need to.

“What's that you're hiding?” Rick asked, pointing at Kieren's jacket with obvious curiosity. Again, with the enthusiasm. It made Kieren smile warmly.

Instead of answering, Kieren removed the leather jacket, revealing what he had kept secret beneath it. 

“A radio?” 

Rick looked at him, one eyebrow cocked. But Kieren simply clicked the 'play' button, letting what followed do the explaining for him.

At first, there was silence. Then some static. And then, the cave was filled with music. 

Not the hard, angry kind that Kieren liked to listen to at full volume. The guitar strummed softly, accompanying the coarse voice of a man singing about things long passed and love lost. Celli wailed in harmony and Kieren watched as Rick's confusion turned into realisation and then into wonder. They listened through the first three songs without saying anything.

Only, when the fourth song had almost come to an end, Rick moved. 

“Now let me show you something” he said, a sly smirk on his face that Kieren could only shake his head at. He followed Rick outside, the sound of the music less prominent but still audible in the forest, sounding melancholic from within The Den.

Now it was Kieren's turn to be confused. It was obvious that Rick hadn't planned this, a blush already creeping its way up his neck. 

And then he stretched out his hand.

For a moment, Kieren was taken aback. Then, hesitantly, he put his hand into his friend's, who closed his fingers around his. Before Kieren could say anything, Rick stepped into the distance between them.

The music seemed to be the only thing that existed around them as Rick gingerly placed his other hand on the small of Kieren's back, making him tense up for a second. Kieren mirrored him, a little less confident than Rick seemed, barely daring to touch him. Rick didn't seem to mind, he only smiled. 

“And now, we dance” he announced, starting to sway from side to side in sync with the music. When Kieren had adjusted to it, Rick changed his movements to something more complex. A step to the left, lingering, a step to the right, lingering, always turning ever so slightly. 

Kieren had a hard time to follow, his mind preoccupied with the question what was happening and how it could be a real thing. And why it made his heart race when he thought about Rick's hand firmly pressing against his back and the small space left between them and how easily it would be to close it to -

“I'm so sorry” Kieren said having treaded on Rick's foot, so deeply in thought that he had lost track of his movements. But Rick didn't complain or stop whatever it was that was happening. He just kept hold of Kieren's hand and continued slowly spinning them both around to the music. The forest around them had fallen silent as if not wanting to interrupt the two boys.

“It's easier if you stop thinking about it” Rick said, snickering. 

“I'm trying” Kieren said, his voice sounding strained.

“Ren” Rick said and Kieren didn't know how such a small, innocent word could send shivers down his spine and have his heart fluttering weakly.

“Yeah?”

“I'm glad.”

“About what?” His breathing was coming out short and Kieren almost tripped again. He couldn't fathom why he was feeling the way he felt. There was no way to put in words the excitement and fear, the euphoria and the guilt. He wanted to stop time and he wanted to fast forward. He wanted so many things but couldn't name even one of them.

“That it's us. Ren and Rick.”

The only word that seemed to make sense, Kieren said it softly. It fell from his lips easily, rightfully. There had never been something more true to him.

“Forever.”

***

It hadn't just been the music that Kieren had brought along. And after a few hours he knew why it had been a brilliant idea. 

It was much easier to dance with Rick when his senses were slowed down by alcohol. And it surprisingly made him a better dancer, too. More bold, taking the lead, spinning them around in circles and circles, laughing at the way the world blurred around them, becoming insignificant. 

When it got too dark for them to continue dancing – which, to be fair, had turned into simply swaying back and forth because spinning had made them both sick to the stomach – the boys climbed back into The Den. 

“I can't see a bloody thing” Rick exclaimed after hitting his foot on a rock and cursing at it, loudly and graphically.

“Hold on” Kieren told him, because the beer hadn't been the last thing either. Lazily, Kieren set candles around the main cave, lighting them with matches, turning the air warm and the darkness and soft orange. 

“You're a fucking genius!” Rick said, already settled into his place against the wall, watching Kieren return to the other side.

“I know” Kieren said, smugly, sitting down onto his leather jacket. Their outstretched legs were pressed against each other's comfortably. The alcohol had really been an amazing idea.

“You've gotta tell me the name t' that song” Rick slurred, pointing at the radio. It was the song with the Celli and the heartbroken lyrics, the first one on the mix. It was the one that Kieren liked most as well, hence putting it in the lead. Everything that followed was merely to compliment that first piece of music.

“You can keep the CD if you like” Kieren offered, shrugging. The candle light played with their shadows against the walls, a study in sandy red and royal blue. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Rick was staring at him. He felt flustered, letting his eyes roam over the candles instead of meeting his friend's gaze.

“You're really pretty, Ren” Rick said, only slightly more than a whisper. It could have been mistaken as the wind or as part of the song if it hadn't struck Kieren like lightning. Something inside him was set aflame, much like the candles that surrounded them. 

“You're drunk” Kieren said, attempting at light-heartedness. He hoped the dim light would conceal his face enough to hide how he really felt.

Rick laughed, shaking his head. Kieren was unable to tell whether it was out of amusement or embarrassment. And in the end, he didn't really care.

“Yeah, yeah I am” he agreed, bringing his hands up to his face, grunting loudly into them. 

“My head hurts” he exclaimed, moving to lay down, head against his backpack. All the while, Kieren felt absent. Like he was watching the whole exchange not taking part in it. His stomach was in knots and his heart hammered relentlessly against his ribcage.

Something inside of him shifted. There it was, small and growing, growing. Overpowering. He suddenly knew a word for what he had felt when Rick had been with Abbey. Jealousy. And he knew a word for how he had felt, Rick's hand on the small of his back, slow dancing in the middle of the forest.

Kieren had fallen for his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no shit, kier
> 
> also for anyone that thinks "well, this is a lil too ooc for our dear, closeted rickyboy" i give you this: The Den is their sacred, secret hideaway. no one can find them there. it's a silly notion, he knows but he also feels it so priminently in his heart. his father would never know the afternoons he spent there with kieren were the best hours of his life. his mother would never assume that instead of getting drunk at parties, he much rather watched kieren draw. it's silly but the den is just theirs. and he would not let his dad or anyone else take that from him. that little bit of ridiculous freedom he had still left. and what better way to say "fuck you, dad" than to dance with that boy his father so deeply despises and rick so dearly admires.
> 
> ok it might still be ooc but if i want them to slow dance to romantic music i will goddamn make them slow dance to romantic music


	10. Vol. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for:  
> strong language  
> referenced and implied (child) abuse  
> alcohol

The realisation was something that Kieren couldn't quite place even after two weeks had passed after that afternoon by The Den. Was it something good? Was it bad? Was it reciprocated? Did he even want that?

He didn't want to ruin their friendship, that much he knew. There were little things more important to him than what he had with Rick Macy.

Rick didn't seem to know about Kieren's conflicted feelings or if he did, he didn't let show. They hung out like they usually would, not particularly avoiding speaking about the dancing but not directly addressing it either. Kieren was starting to believe that nothing would change.

The days went by, sluggishly, lost in doing nothing and everything at the same time. Lazy afternoons in The Den after having been out and about exploring the forests all morning. Lounging about by the Shop 'n' Save before taking their bike to the nearest city, racing each other under the bright sun.

Summer was ending on a high note. The next year, Jem would be in a parallel class to hers, which would hopefully stop the bullying once and for all. Brock Worthington had broken a leg while skateboarding which would make Rick team captain of the football team during his absence. Things were going incredibly well.

Which was why, when they didn't, it felt so much worse.

It was Rick's birthday, early September. The winds were still warm from the previous months but signs of autumn were showing here and there. Soon, the greens would be replaced by reds and the blue skies would be hidden behind layers upon layers of grey clouds.

Rick didn't celebrate his birthday. It was only by accident, that Kieren had even found out the date. He had been at Rick's when Janet Macy had congratulated her son.

Usually, Kieren just went with it, acted like there was nothing much special about the day, apart from gifts, of course. Every year, Kieren tried to surpass the previous years presents, earning both annoyance and gratefulness from his friend in return.

Last year, his present had been a collectible playing card of Rick's favourite football player, complete with an autograph. It had taken weeks to hunt it down and a quarter of Kieren's yearly allowance to get it. But the smile on his best mate's face had been so worth it. Rick deserved nice things.

His fifteenth birthday, Kieren would make something more personal, something to commemorate their newly formed bonds of friendship. Another person might have been weirded out by the idea of getting a drawing of themselves and their best friend for their birthday. But Kieren was certain that it was exactly right. He even used the acrylics that Rick had gotten him for Christmas, some time ago. Some colours had had to be bought again but they were still essentially from Rick to him.

It seemed poetic, in a way, to use them for a gift back to Rick.

It took him nearly three weeks to get the small canvas to his satisfaction, all the colours vibrant enough, all the lines smooth enough. Everything well enough for Rick. In addition, he also made another mixtape for his friend with songs he knew Rick liked and songs he liked himself. It took him all morning to get the music in the right order before heading over to Rick's in the afternoon, presents wrapped and anticipation tingling in his fingers.

He couldn't wait to see Rick's reaction to the gifts.

***

“Hey, Ren” Rick greeted him at the door, stepping aside to let his friend in. He tried to act as if he hadn't noticed the presents Kieren was more or less hiding behind his back but the slight smirk that was forming on his lips betrayed his air of disinterest.

“Happy Birthday, Rick” Kieren said as they were seated comfortably on Rick's bed up in his room. He presented the two packages to his friend, both wrapped neatly in dark burgundy paper. Rick's favourite colour.

“Thanks, mate” Rick said, somewhere between uncomfortable and flattered. Despite handing them out quite often, Rick wasn't good with receiving niceties. He wasn't used to it.

Rick took his time unwrapping, either unsure what to expect or simply teasing Kieren who was leaning in close to get a good look.

The second the painting was freed form all wrapping paper, Rick stopped breathing. He sucked in one shallow breath and then just stopped.

“You okay?” Kieren asked, concerned. “It's not too weird, is it? I can draw something else if you want -”

He was cut short by the other boy throwing himself at Kieren, squeezing him tight. Was Rick crying? Uncertain how to react, Kieren put his hands on Rick's back, patting gently. Now he was sure Rick was crying, the tears soaking Kieren's black shirt at the shoulder. But he didn't mind as long as it were happy tears.

“You're my best mate” Rick said after some time, having calmed down a little. “I don't know what I'd do without you. Honestly.”

They were still embracing each other when the door to Rick's bedroom was opened rather carelessly, sending it crash against the wall.

Kieren hadn't even fully registered what was happening when Rick had already scooted away considerably, sitting up straight, facing his father.

“What's she doin' here” Bill asked, his voice showing that his afternoon at the Legion had been successful. There was a sluggish lull to it, something that was funny when it happened to Kieren or Rick but only added to Bill's unpredictability.

“He is here for my birthday, Sir” Rick said, surprising Kieren once again with how steady he could be in the presence of his father. Kieren always just shrunk in on himself, unable to move or speak. 

Bill Macy truly terrified him.

“Ohhhhh” Mr Macy said, drawing the sound out as long as he could. He took a wavering step into the room. “She make that herself?” he asked, pointing a finger at the drawing Rick held on his lap, his knuckles white from clutching the canvas.

“Maybe next time she can try not t' draw something so gay.” Laughing at his own statement, Bill let his gaze wander over to the still wrapped second parcel on Rick's bed, containing the mix CD. He raised a brow.

“Open it.”

“Sir, I don't think that's … ” Rick tried himself but his sentence stayed unfinished, stopped by the look Bill gave his son.

It hadn't been a request.

Kieren felt his hands shaking as Rick pulled the small, rectangular package onto the painting. This time, he wasn't careful, ripping the wrapping paper away, shreds of it falling to the ground. Rick wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

The CD lay upside down, the tracklist showing. Kieren's handwriting naming every song and interpret in sharp black letters on white paper. Almost 30 songs. He had felt so proud of the collection. Now, he wanted nothing more than the CD to spontaneously combust, bursting into flames until nothing but ashes were left.

Unfortunately, that didn't happen. Instead, Bill Macy took the remaining two steps towards his son, towering over the two boys, menacingly.

In a gesture way too swift for a drunk man, he snatched the CD from Rick's hand for examination. Kieren felt the adrenaline in his veins, sending shivers through his limbs. He knew what was about to happen and yet, the reality of it was far worse.

Unimpressed, Bill Macy shrugged, having finished scanning the tracklist. He turned the CD in his hand, revealing the cover. He stared at it, unmoving, for a second or two. Now Kieren wished himself to turn to ashes.

“Out.”

Neither boy moved. Nothing happened. Time seemed to have stopped but unlike Rick's breathing, when it returned it wasn't a simple inhale.

It was an explosion.

“Out! Out! Out of my house!” Bill Macy screamed, enraged. He was looking directly at Kieren, his face red with anger. The young boy, paralysed by fear, still didn't move. Which only served to make Bill even more furious.

The man threw the mixtape to the floor with enough strength to crack the plastic covers. The words that had sparked his tantrum faced them, simple black letters like the tracklist. At the time, Kieren had found them a good choice, kind of an inside joke between the two mates as well as a promise. Something, that meant more to him than he would ever let show. Something, that would maybe make Rick understand the fire inside Kieren that he couldn't put into other words than these.

Ren + Rick 4 Ever

How stupid of him. To declare his feelings in such a way. He should have known. And now, the full scale of his arrogance lay in front of him, mocking him. He didn't dare to move still but he saw the surprise on Rick's face. He saw the sadness, too.

“Are you fuckin' deaf? Get out of my house! Yer banned from this house! And stay away from my son!”

Never before had Kieren been hit before. But Bill Macy's words felt like a punch in the face to him.

He didn't remember standing up but he was halfway through Rick's room when he heard the unmistakable sound of a canvas ripping.

The way down the stairs and to the front door felt never ending, the last few minutes constantly replaying in Kieren's mind. He felt cowardly for following Bill Macy's order. He should stay with his friend, make sure he’d be safe. He had seen Bill hit his son once before and who knew how many times since that that Kieren didn't witness.

But he couldn't bring himself to turn around. He couldn't even stop. Soon, the Macy house lay behind him, growing smaller and smaller, grey veneer vanishing into the grey sky.

His foolish attempt to be clever – romantic even – had turned into a disaster. Guilt mixed with anger mixed with embarrassment welled up in Kieren, threatening to spill out in tears and screams. He had to get home. He had to call Rick on the walkie talkie, make sure he was okay. He had to apologise. He had to -

Kieren felt his hands ball into fists. The thought that Bill Macy might have harmed Rick made his stomach turn. In any other town, any other world, any other reality Kieren would have been able to call authorities, ensure Rick's safety. In Roarton, where Bill Macy had his hand in everything, there was nothing left to do besides hope.

And Kieren had almost no hope left.

***

When he arrived home, he didn't even bother to take of his shoes and jacket, running straight to his room, rummaging the usual mess for the walkie talkie.

He found it beneath a pile of fresh laundry, jumping onto his bed. Only then, he hesitated. What if Bill was still in the room? Rick had managed to keep their communication system a secret and he was in enough trouble already. Trouble. It was his fault.

He clutched the walkie talkie, his finger hovering over the call button. Waiting. Five minutes. Ten minutes.

“Rick?” he whispered into the grey device. “Rick, are you okay?”

Maybe his friend hadn't heard him so Kieren forced himself to speak louder. If Bill Macy was in the room, he would surely hear him now.

“Rick? Please answer. Rick?”

For some reason he was reminded of their night camping in the woods and the morning when Rick had been gone and Kieren had worried that something terrible must have happened to his best friend. Some wild beast mus have ripped him apart. In this case, the wild beast was Rick's own father.

“Rick?”

The relief was almost too much when Kieren heard the voice on the other end. Rick sounded rough, strained, just about breaking Kieren's heart.

“Hey” Rick's distorted voice answered. “You didn't say 'over'. Over.”

“Rick, I'm so sorry I should've known it was stupid of me I'm - “

“Don't blame yourself. I can't talk right now. See you tomorrow in school? Over?”

“Yeah. Over.”


	11. Happy Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for  
> alcohol

Kieren had feared that with his banishment from the Macy house, his friendship with Rick would find a sudden end. As much as he complained about his father and tried his best to speak up against him, in the end, he always obeyed.

But for almost eight months now, the two boys had continued. They met in secret at their private hideout in the woods. They met after school, telling their parents lies about their whereabouts. They met at the Save 'n' Shop for a quick half an hour chat when they had both offered to go grocery shopping for their families. It wasn't much, but Kieren loved every second of it. He laughed at every joke and smiled at every witty comment and savoured the little touches of shoulder against shoulder, hand brushing against hand.

It wasn't much but it worked.

Three months in, around Christmas, Kieren had offered that Rick come to his house. His parents wouldn't mind. He wouldn't even tell them anything if Rick didn't want to. He had felt awful about him having a loving home to go back to every single day while Rick wasn't welcome in his. But Rick had denied the offer, the good son his father did not deserve.

A few weeks later, though, Rick told Mr and Mrs Walker himself. About how his father didn't want him and their son to be mates but that they didn't want their friendship to end. Close to tears, Rick had hugged Sue Walker back, hearing her promise she wouldn't tell on them. And that he would always have a home here, with them. No matter what.

For Kieren's birthday, Rick even felt bold enough to plan on staying the night.

“I'll just tell me dad I'm at Lippy's or something. His mum won't rat me out” he said, leaning against a tree, carelessly. Kieren had found a rock to sit on and was sketching his friend.

“What?” Kieren asked, absent-mindedly. He hadn't really been following the conversation since taking out his drawing utensils. Instantly, he had been absorbed into the world of art, of paper and pencil and of illusions and dreams.

“Your birthday, Ren” Rick said, shaking his head at his friend, who blushed in response, having been caught.

“What of it?”

“You really are an artist. Always in your own little world.”

Kieren, averting his gaze to hide how embarrassed he was, let out a soft laugh. “Shut it.”

“What I was saying was, I'm gonna stay over at your birthday after all. Fuck my dad, he can't forbid me everything.”

It was unusual for Rick to curse his dad. More often than not he even excused his father's irrational behaviour. Saying he just wanted to protect his son. This rebellious side of Rick was making Kieren blush even more.

“You don't have to risk anything for me, mate” Kieren said, truthfully. “We can just spend the afternoon at my house or something and then you'd be home before dinner.”

Rick just clicked his tongue as a response, having put his hands in his pockets, leisurely, the sun illuminating his face, making it stand out starkly against the dark bark of the beech tree. It was one of these little things Kieren was sure he wouldn't have noticed before.

Now, he did and turned his face away, shyly.

“Can I see the drawing?” Rick asked, snapping Kieren out of his thoughts. He picked up the sketchbook from the ground where he had put it, as Rick walked over to him, focusing his gaze on the black spiral bound book in his hands instead of his friend.

Rick crouched down beside the stone, looking at Kieren. His gaze was so intense that it made Kieren's heart skip a beat. How could Rick not notice the things he did to his best mate?

Rick, crouched down beside the stone, looked at him. “You alright, mate?”

Looking up, Kieren put a smile on his lips. The last thing he wanted was to worry Rick. Or seem suspicious. Instead of lingering on his feelings, Kieren cleared his throat and returned his attention to the sketchbook in his lap.

“Sure. Here, it's not my best but anyways” Kieren said while flipping to the third to last page, revealing the messy sketch he had drawn a few minutes prior. The lines intersected less harsh than on the beginning pages, smoother, more accurate. There was even some resemblance to Rick if one looked hard enough. Kieren wasn't proud of it but it wasn't too bad, either.

“That's incredible” Rick breathed and Kieren was sure that he meant it.

As always, Rick was throwing around the praise like it wasn't a big deal, like his heart just sprouted these words of flattery anyway and he might as well use them. But to Kieren, they meant the world. Feeling appreciated was what he craved so deeply.

“I wish I could draw” Rick said, bitterly. It was the first time he had said something like that. It struck Kieren as very unusual.

“You can do other things” Kieren said, flatly. He knew it was just a saying but he meant it. There were so many things Rick did that Kieren would never be able to.

“Like what? Tidying my room? Annoying my dad?” Rick joked without humour. Had he been sad all afternoon? Kieren suddenly felt guilty to not have detected the change in mood. The tumult inside his own mind was making it hard to focus on anything beside it.

“Like sports. Like being a leader. Like teamwork. Like talking.”

“Yeah, great” Rick said and when Kieren looked at his friend, he couldn't meet his eye. Rick was sad and Kieren hadn't noticed. Without much thought, he reached for his friends hand and took it in his, squeezing it.

“Are you gonna tell me what's bothering you?” Kieren asked, ignoring the fire that had flared up in his chest at the touch of their hands. This wasn't the time to worry about himself.

Rick was still avoiding his gaze. Wind rustled through the green foliage overhead, warm spring air whisking by the two boys. Rick had his eyes locked on their joined hands. As he spoke, his voice sounded as soft as the wind.

“It's nothing, really” he husked.

“I don't believe that” Kieren said, firmly. It was bothering him that Rick would feel the need to hide something from him. Hadn't they both learned to be frank with each other by now?

“I'm tired of hiding” Rick simply proclaimed but there was more to the simple words than he let show. He squeezed Kieren's hand back. The conversation was over.

***

They had decided to meet at The Den for a picnic on Kieren's birthday then his mum would drive them a few towns over to see a movie with them, Steve and Jem and in the evening, they would play video games.

As perfect as that sounded to Kieren, the fear was still there, simmering just in his stomach. Fear, that something would go wrong, that months of hiding would come to nothing and that the punishment wouldn't be as small as a slap in the face. If Bill Macy were to find out the two boys had been secretly seeing each other for months, the world would surely go to shit. And then, there would be no way he would see his best mate ever again.

Rick had told him to take it as flattery that he would risk such a thing for him but the sarcastic edge in his tone haunted Kieren. Something wasn't right about Rick and it bothered him a lot.

On his way through the forest, soft, light green leaves still wet with dew, Kieren had almost decided on telling Rick the sleepover was cancelled and that he had to be home after the movies, if not sooner.

When he arrived, he couldn't see Rick anywhere. His throat constricted. What if he hadn't even made it out of the house without a run in with his dad? What if he didn't buy into his football practice or meeting with Phillip and the mates lies anymore?

Sick with worry, Kieren made his way into the dark cave, the air cool and humid. 

He waited for almost an hour, heart racing, bad and worse what-ifs clouding his mind when Rick arrived.

“Sorry, dad wouldn't let me leave with my chores undone -”

His apology was cut short by the blond boy pulling him into a bear hug, Rick stumbling to the ground until he was kneeling beside his friend.

“I was worried” Kieren said, still holding onto his friend, no intention of letting go anytime soon. Soothingly, Rick placed a hand on the small of Kieren's back. All thoughts about telling him to go back home, to not risk anything, to stay away from Kieren were forgotten, melting under the soft touch.

“Yeah” he said, simply.

They stayed like this for a while in the flickering candlelight, embracing, enjoying the silence and each other. When Rick pulled away his absence was so prominent to Kieren that it almost hurt. But he didn't let show as his friend sat down opposite him, crossing his legs, smirking.

“So, birthday boy” he said, his tone suggestive.

“That's what they call me” Kieren joked, earning a laugh from Rick. He watched his friend rummage through the backpack he had brought, pulling out a blanket, some snacks, a few beers and a present, wrapped in black paper.

“You know, to fit your aesthetic” Rick mocked, holding the small box out to Kieren who rolled his eyes as he took it, making sure that their fingers brushed.

“I'm not even wearing black today, dick.”

While Rick busied himself preparing their picnic in The Den, Kieren unwrapped the present, excitedly. His parents usually gave him art supplies or money and Jem either drew pictures or made something else for him but with Rick it could be everything. Last year, he had gotten tickets to see one of his favourite bands and the year before that it had been an impromptu visit and a homebaked cake.

With Rick, Kieren never knew what to expect.

When Kieren opened the present, his breathing hitched. Inside was a black camera, an old analog one. Kieren tore his eyes from it to look at Rick who had finished setting up the picnic and was now watching him, curiously.

“So?” he asked, sounding almost as excited as Kieren felt.

“It's amazing” he said, turning the camera in his hands, gently.

“Wanna try it?” Rick asked, skidding closer to his friend. Without waiting for a response, he took the camera from Kieren, crouching down next to him. Kieren smiled, shyly, waving his hand at the camera as the flash turned him blind for a split second.

“There, first picture” Rick said, proudly, handing Kieren back the camera and retreated into his corner of the cave. Kieren wished he hadn't.

They ate and drank, laughing and gossiping and feeling too much like old times. Safe and happy. Like nothing in the world could harm them in The Den, their sanctuary. At some point, Kieren had moved over to sit next to Rick. He could always blame it on the alcohol, he thought to himself as he let his hand wander to sit on top of Rick's. If his friend minded, he didn't say anything.

“I wish we didn't have t' hide” Rick said, his words slurring slightly. Kieren thought it adorable. “Just 'cause my … my stupid father thinks yer a bad influence on me. What're you gonna do? Make me do my homework?”

He laughed at his own joke but Kieren sensed that his friend wasn't as lighthearted as he tried to appear. Keeping their friendship secret from his parents must have been a terrible strain on the young boy. Kieren's family knew about them. He didn't have to tread carefully every second of every day. He squeezed Rick's hand, reassuringly.

“Think your dad's just scared that he can't control you” Kieren suggested. “He thinks I'll turn you into some punk who does what he wants and wears black clothes and likes who he likes.” The last part, Kieren said softly, unsure how Rick would receive his words. If he knew what meaning hid behind them.

Rick squeezed Kieren's hand.

“The minute I turn eighteen I'm outta here” he proclaimed. “He can't boss me around, then. I'll just board the train and never come back.”

“Sounds like a plan” Kieren said, hopefully. “I've always wanted to go to Paris.”

“Paris it is, then” Rick decided and the laughter that followed was genuine.

***

The movie was a terrible romantic comedy which Jem loved and the two boys constantly made fun of, despite Kieren actually enjoying to see the lead characters slowly go from friends to lovers. In movies, things were always much more easy.

“I swear I didn't pick the film” Kieren said, as they were on their way back to Roarton, the three kids in the back of the car.

“Yeah, as if that's not totally your jam, Ren” Rick teased him, shoving his friend against the door. Jem, on Rick's other side, laughed at that.

“He's right, Kier. When I suggested we see that movie you did not seem all that sad about it.”

“Shut it, Jem” Kieren laughed, trying to reach over Rick to grab her, but she squealed and hid behind the boy sitting in the middle.

The playfight went on for almost the whole way back. When they passed the sign that declared that they were home, Kieren suggested him and Rick walk the rest of the way back.

“That's a good idea” Steve agreed, stopping the car. “You two boys walk that rush off, please. I should not have gotten you popcorn and a coke.”

They watched the car disappear in the darkness, still giggling as they walked next to each other in the cool night air.

Roarton was barely lit at night, streetlamps, if they worked, spaced far apart, and not many windows showing signs of life inside, the boys engulfed in complete darkness most of the time. But Kieren didn't mind the darkness, looking up at the stars above. He felt safe and protected when no one could see him.

Suddenly, a weight was placed on his shoulders and Kieren looked up at Rick who had given him his jacket, his arm around Kieren.

“I noticed you shivering” he said. He didn't retrieve his arm from around Kieren's shoulders even when the boy had secured the jacket with his own hands in the front. The darkness, Kieren thought, had a curious effect on Rick Macy as well.

Turning into the cul-de-sac that Kieren lived in, Rick did, however, put his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Most people in this street knew him. And knew his dad.

“You still sure you wanna stay” Kieren asked, his voice turning into white clouds in front of his mouth. His heart hammered in his chest, his shoulders tingled where Rick's arm had been placed around them mere seconds before. He desperately wanted Rick to stay the night. Who knew what else the darkness would turn the taller boy into?

“Yeah, I'm sure” Rick answered.

***

Ever since they had been friends, there was a spare mattress that Kieren kept under his bed for the many sleepovers the two boys had. It hadn't been used in a long time but setting up the bed on the floor next to his own still felt familiar enough to make him smile fondly.

They had been playing video games for almost four hours before Sue sent them to Kieren's room to catch at least some sleep.

Rick had excused himself to use the bathroom and when he returned, he was changed into plaid sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Kieren had changed as well, wearing an old band tee and black sweats, sitting on his bed as he waited.

When Rick closed the door behind him, Kieren slid off his bed to grab two bottles of the beer that he kept hidden underneath it. He handed one of them to his mate before sitting back down, motioning for Rick to follow suit.

They drank their beers in silence, the dim orange glow from the desk lamp the only source of light in the room.

“I had a lot of fun today” Rick whispered, his half-finished beer set on the bedside table. He sighed, deeply, turning his head to Kieren.

“I had a lot of fun today too, Rick” Kieren whispered back. He could feel his pulse in his throat. He looked at his best mate for a long time in the almost dark.

There were mere inches between the two boys, Kieren could feel the heat radiating from his friend, his breath that smelled of bear and popcorn. Something in him wanted to take advantage.

Advantage of the darkness and the intoxication, of the moment and the possibility. His heart beat fast behind his ribs. But when he looked at Rick and was met with uncertainty, he simply smiled.

There was no reason to rush, to fuck up before it even started. They had to figure things out. And it would take time. But they had all the time in the world. And Kieren was willing to spend every second of his life on it, if he had to.

“Good night, Rick” he whispered into the space between them.

“Good night, Ren” his friend said.


	12. Two months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for  
> extremely frustratingly cute boys

The high of Kieren's birthday didn't take long to dwindle and vanish. Rick, being as kind and lovely as ever, didn't take the continued secrecy well. It started to weigh on him, more and more and Kieren noticed the bags under his eyes becoming darker and darker and the smile on his lips fading into an almost pained grimace. Sometimes, Kieren forgot how sensible his friend could be.

Kieren missed the lazy autumn afternoons spent goofing around at The Den, carelessly and joyfully while now, in early spring, Rick could barely muster up a weak laugh.

He tried to give his friend the freedom to talk to him on his own terms, whenever he felt himself to be ready. But as days turned into weeks turned into a month, Kieren just couldn't take it anymore. Impatient, hopeful, scared he slipped Rick a note into his locker at school, since long their preferred way of communication. 

The walkie talkies were just too easy to find, too easy to overhear. Bill Macy would never be able to find the small papers stashed away behind books and folders.

When Kieren entered The Den, having come straight from his art class, Rick was already sat there, leaning against the stone wall, eyes closed. For a split second, Kieren's heart seemed to stop, his mind having linked the unmoving body, the closed eyes with death. But then Rick moved, yawning and turning to his friend.

“Hey” he greeted Kieren who settled against the cool stone wall opposite to Rick. The space between them seemed especially small that day.

“Hey” Kieren said as well, trying to gather the courage to bring up what he had called Rick there for. Trying to form words in his head and send them to his mouth. 

He tried and failed. 

“How was football practice?” he asked, feeling guilty about avoiding the subject. Avoiding was one of Kieren’s specialities.

“Was good” Rick said, simply. He shrugged, non-chalantly but something lay behind it that made the gesture go to waste.

“What happened?” Kieren asked. Part of his was itching to move away from the topic, to talk about his birthday instead. Yet the other half didn’t mind talking about the camp. He didn’t mind talking about things that didn’t matter, little things that were just that. Little things. He felt quite content with ignoring the big things he felt burning beneath his tongue.

Instead of answering, Rick crossed his arms in front of his chest and started tapping his fingers against his bicep rhythmically. Kieren felt a sharp pain in his chest at the unfamiliarity of the gesture. He used to know every single one of Rick’s quirks like his own.

“Tell me” his friend inquired, leaning forward for emphasis. 

Finally, Rick let his arms sink down into his lap. “The coach asked me if I want to join the football camp this summer.”

Kieren tilted his head to the side. He remembered Rick talking about the camp with jealousy for those who got to go a year ago or two. It was a big camp with thousands of kids and actual professional football players came to visit sometimes He hadn’t mentioned it in a while but as far as Kieren was concerned, it was a big deal to be invited by the coach himself. It was also something that Rick had wanted and hoped for for a long time.

“But isn’t that really good?” Kieren asked. 

“Yeah. I suppose.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

“It’s two months long.” The way Rick looked at Kieren sent shivers down his spine. So intense, so full of trust yet so helpless at the same time, searching for something to hold onto, for something in Kieren’s eyes that he didn’t himself believe could be there. 

He wanted Kieren to decide.

“I’d be gone for the whole of the summer break.”

He wanted to look away shyly but before the motion could be completed, his jaw was caught by Rick’s hand, holding his face in place.

“Kieren?” Rick whispered.

The air between them seemed warmer than mid-May should be, uncomfortable and exciting. Kieren could sense the possibility there, between the two boys. The ‘what if’. It lay heavy against Kieren’s chest, it burned under his tongue, threatened to leak from behind his eyes.

“I think you should go to camp.”

***

July rolled around with its heavy, viscous sunshine that seemed to thicken the air and stick to everything like honey. Only a few days lay between Rick and camp and Kieren had managed to ignore the fact that he would have to spend summer alone for the first time in many years. The summer holidays were starting unusually late that year so that Rick would not be back in time for his birthday. Another day that they wouldn’t spend together.

The months since Rick had told him about the camp and Kieren had told his friend to go, they had both basically been the same as always. Meeting after school to roam the vast lands around Roarton, taking the bus to bigger cities to go window shopping in the sunshine, reading in silence in The Den. 

It became impossible to ignore when Kieren entered Rick’s room and found a mess. 

The usually impeccably tidy space was filled with stacks of clothes and toiletries littered the bed and the desk was almost gone underneath the papers and books Rick would have to take to still do the homework while at camp.

“You’re packing” Kieren remarked, making his friend jump. Rick had been crouched over a small notebook sitting on the floor by his bed, frantically writing down things for a presumed packing list. He gazed up to his friend, his expression changing from confusion to recognition to panic. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Rick asked, keeping his voice low, craning his neck to see past Kieren and out the bedroom door. 

Almost one year ago, Kieren had been banned from the house by Rick’s father Bill and had since not come back. But what better time to rebel against Bill Macy than a day before Rick would go away for two months.

“Relax, your parents left ten minutes ago. And by what I overheard they won’t be back for an hour or so. Nothing to worry your pretty little head off about.”

Rick didn’t seem completely convinced by the idea of Kieren disobeying Bill but he returned to his notebook nonetheless.

Kieren plopped down next to his friend and watched him silently for a couple of minutes until Rick had finished writing down and looked up from the list.

“I’m nervous” the older boy said, grinning sheepishly. 

“It’s gonna be great” Kieren said, nodding for emphasis. “You’ll see. In the end, you won’t even want to come back here at all.”

He said it nonchalantly but there was a bitterness in his mouth as he said those words. What if? There would be hundreds of other boys and girls at camp, all sharing Rick’s passion for football. Rick would be quick to make friends there. 

“Well, in that case you’ve got to come and drag my butt back here, then.”

They shared a laugh at that and all the leftover tension from Kieren breaking the banishment vanished from Rick. He leaned back against his bed, his head falling onto the duvet, staring at the ceiling.

“What are you gonna do while I’m at camp?”

“Dunno” Kieren said, truthfully. He crossed his arms on the bed, resting his chin on his hands, looking at his best friend. “I’ll probably finish some of my drawings. Spend time with Jem. Maybe we’re going on a family vacation somewhere. Who knows.”

“Sounds fun” Rick commented, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Yeah” Kieren agreed, his eyes fixed on Rick.

Against the light of the sun falling in through the open window, Rick’s face lay in the shadows but the faint blush creeping up his cheeks was still visible. Kieren watched as Rick’s eyes fell shut, his lashes brushing against his cheeks.

“I’ve got your birthday present with me” Kieren said, his voice sounding weird to his ears, mixed with the sound of his beating heart.

Rick just hummed in response, enjoying the sun on his face. 

“Since you’re not gonna be here until a week after it and I thought you might want to take it with you.”

Still, Rick kept his eyes closed. What if?

His heart hammering in his chest, Kieren leaned forward and breathed a kiss on Rick’s cheek.

His friend could have easily mistaken the hesitant brush of lips for a stray sunray if it weren’t for the shadows that dominated that half of his face. He could have mistaken it for the wind if the bright September afternoon weren’t still and silent outside. He could have mistaken it for a mistake if it hadn’t lingered just long enough. Not long enough.

“I’m gonna miss you” Rick said, opening his eyes.

Kieren had retreated, chin upon his arms.

“I’m gonna miss you too, Rick.”


	13. Parallels

Rick had been at camp for three weeks already when Kieren found himself wandering the woods on his own. It was a cool day, the sun hidden behind layers of grey clouds, a soft wind rustling the boy’s hair as he let himself get lost in between the lush greenery and the shadows of trees.

He hadn’t told anyone about the kiss. If it wasn’t even a kiss. The more time passed the more Kieren felt conflicted about it. 

Right after he’d given Rick the kiss on his cheek, the other boy had simply gone back to packing his luggage for camp, chatting away as if nothing had changed.

But Rick would come back from camp after two months away and he would be different. And Kieren would be different. Two months could be a long time. Rick would turn 16 in those months. Time felt like sand slipping through Kieren’s fingers, grain following after grain. He feared to be left empty handed all too soon. He just wanted to hold on for a little longer. Linger a little more.

Maybe he would return and have a girlfriend again. There would be many girls at camp, girls with the same passions as Rick. Pretty girls. It had happened already, after all. Rick had fallen for pretty girls before.

Kieren was thankful for his solitude in the forest as he let out a choked sound. The world in front of his eyes blurred at the edges, ever so slightly. He wiped the stray tears away. What a hopeless dreamer he was. He should thank the heavens that Rick preferred pretty girls. He should be glad the other wasn’t as foolish as him.

Rick’s father despised Kieren, he was banished from the Macy house and Bill would never allow his son to be together with another boy. The image of Bill, drunk and his face red with anger flashed before his eyes. How could such a frightening man be father to such a kind boy.

Stopping in his tracks, Kieren felt his throat tighten at the realisation. There would never be any future for this path he was going down, pushing Rick down with him. Bill Macy would kill Kieren. 

He would kill them both.

Maybe it was time to go back.

***

He never told anyone about the kiss or about anything relating his best friend. For two months, it seemed almost as if Rick Macy were only a distant memory, a melancholic feeling deep in Kieren’s stomach.

He drowned them in time spent with his family by the seaside, playing tag with Jem like they did when they were little, late evenings by a campfire listening to the waves crash against the beach. 

But when school started, pretence was no longer an option. 

Forcing a smile, Kieren walked towards the bus stop where a dark silhouette was already sat on the bench, waiting. It was a foggy morning, the bus wouldn’t arrive for another twenty minutes or so but out of habit, Kieren had come early. Whenever they didn’t take the bikes, Rick and him at least made sure to have some time together waiting on the bus. 

That day, Kieren had found himself hoping he’d be met with an empty bus stop.

“Ren!” 

The word sent a shock down Kieren’s spine he hadn’t anticipated. He hadn’t been called Ren in over two months.

Wordlessly, Kieren sat down on the other end of the bench, putting his backpack between them. His eyes fixed on his dirty converse shoes he tried to muster the strength to hold a normal conversation but his beating heart wouldn’t rest behind his ribs.

“You okay, Ren?” asked Rick’s voice. Kieren flinched as a hand lightly touched his back. His heart broke at the surprised, hurt noise that came from his best friend.

“What’s wrong?” 

Kieren felt terrible, guilty for ruining this moment, ruining Rick’s excitement from camp. His friend had probably been readying stories to tell, memories to share and Kieren had just come along and destroyed those hopes of a happy reunion. 

Out of the corner of his eye he caught Rick extending his hand again, hesitating and retreating it back into his lap. 

“I don’t feel well” Kieren heard himself speak, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. He was already up on his feet, turning to walk back home, skip school, skip the reunion, skip the moment he would be confronted with all his infuriatingly foolish feelings as a hand wrapped around his wrist.

They stayed like that, for a heartbeat or two, Rick holding onto Kieren’s wrist and Kieren holding his breath.

Then, he was let go. 

“Promise we’ll talk, yeah?” requested his best friend, his words small and full of worry,

Kieren took a few steps, stopped. He could feel Rick’s gaze on his back, he could taste the confusion and the concern and it made him sick to the stomach. Why did he have to ruin everything? 

“Ren?”

“I promise” said Kieren before continuing to walk back home, away from his friend and the bus stop and the foggy morning and away from the possibility. 

Kieren had never hated himself as much as he did in that moment.

***

Kieren’s mother always used to tell her kids that if they faked being sick in order to skip school, they would end up actually getting really ill because God had a sense of humour.

Yet, Kieren didn’t find it particularly amusing when he woke up on the third morning feeling lightheaded, dizzy, his room spinning around him.

Luckily, Jem had offered to pick up the homework for him because being home from school Kieren once again realised that apart from Rick, he had no one. Sure, there were his classmates but he had never spent time with anyone outside school. And even in his art class he only had acquaintances, not friends. He found himself not even being able to remember all the names of the kids he had spent the past couple of years with day in day out.

While being at home gave him a place to hide from Rick, it also gave him enough time to think. And his mind could be a cruel thing.

“Kier?” his mom asked, knocking lightly on his open door. “I got you some soup.”

Her son was sat in his bed, reading a book for school, looking terribly sorry for himself. His hair was an uncombed mess and he looked even more pale than usual. The bags under Kieren’s eyes were dark and gave him a sadness that sat all too comfortably on his face.

She sat down on the bed beside him, handing him the tray with the bowl of vegetable broth, eyeing him worriedly.

“Getting any better?” she asked, smiling at Kieren.

He didn’t smile back but instead kept his eyes trained on the soup. 

“You know” his mother started, settling into a more comfortable position, “I’ve been sick like that as well. When I was about your age.”

Kieren wanted her to go but he didn’t have the heart to tell her. It wasn’t his mother’s fault that he felt this miserable. That he was this terrible a person. She had always been the best mother. It wasn’t her fault.

“His name was Johnny. He was in my year and everyone fancied him – I mean, literally everyone. And, how couldn’t they? He was smart and he was kind. Also, the captain of the football team.”

“Mom, I’m not lovesick” said Kieren, his voice hoarse from not talking. 

His mother ignored him, moving on with her story about how she fell for Johnny as well.

“And when he asked me out, I thought: ‘that’s it. I am the happiest girl on the entire planet.’ But of course, it was too good to be true. At the party, he snuck off with some other girl and I was left there, having made a fool of myself.”

Kieren felt his mother’s arm snaking around him, her hand squeezing his shoulder. Unconsciously, he leaned into the embrace.

“I thought it the end of the world. I would never fall in love again. But I did. Many times. And I figured, that the memories I’d made are very precious and that I shouldn’t waste my time wishing they hadn’t happened or wishing they’d happen again. Instead, I should be thankful that they happened in the first place.”


	14. Down to Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> implied/referenced physical abuse  
> implied homophobia

Eight days Kieren managed to hide. Eight more days of pretending everything would be normal. Eight days of hating himself for making it so complicated for everyone. 

At night, Kieren dreamt of easier times, of good memories. By day, he had forgotten them all, ashamed of the coward he’d become but unable to get himself to stop.

On the ninth day of Rick being back from camp, Kieren went to school. He headed out way too early, claiming that he needed to head to the library before the first period when his dad asked him. Kieren had no intention of going back to class that day.

When he arrived at the bus stop, Rick was there. He was just there, like it hadn’t been a week of ignoring him. Like it was last Monday again, only that this time around, the sky was a soft hue of pink and the air was dry and cool. 

The mere sight of his best friend sitting there in the early morning light was enough to make his heart skip a beat. He straightened his back, inhaled.

“Rick” Kieren exclaimed, softly, stopping in his tracks. His friend’s head turned toward him, the idea of a smile forming on Rick’s face and Kieren couldn’t help himself but smile back.

“Hey” Rick said in return. He got up from the bench but then didn’t move. The two boys just looked at each other for a long while, the sun rising behind the treetops, turning the pink sky into an orange ocean. “You better?”

“I am” Kieren said, forcing himself to stay, every instinct in him longing to run to his friend, to throw his arms around Rick and forget all the stupid things between them. But he couldn’t. Things weren’t like that anymore. Unsaid words held him back.

“Good.”

For another while, that was it.

“Were you really sick?” Rick, always knowing so much more. Always knowing Kieren so much better than he remembers. But it isn’t accusing. Rick doesn’t raise his voice angrily. It’s just a question, no ulterior motive. And Kieren fell for his best friend all over again right then and there at the tiny, dirty Roarton bus stop in the milky light of September sun.

“No” the blond boy admitted, the word feeling heavy on his tongue. There was no going back, no hiding now.

“Are you gonna tell me?” 

Rick took a hesitant step towards his friend.

“Yes.”

***

As if they had never stopped coming, the boys found their way to The Den naturally, walking between the oak and pine trees, familiar with the feel of the forest ground beneath the soles of their shoes. The smells of the needles and of composting leafs filled Kieren’s nose once more. When they reached the clearing with the cave it felt oddly like when he entered his bedroom. Over the years, the cave had truly become a home for the two boys and Kieren suddenly felt guilty for the last few months that he hadn’t even thought of the place.

Once they were settled in their respective spots in the belly of the cave, it was time to talk. This had been coming, no matter how much Kieren had tried to outrun it.

“Hell, I forgot what this place was like” Rick exclaimed into the silence. Kieren followed Rick’s gaze examining their old hideaway, lingering ever so slightly on the empty beer bottles stashed away from their last adventure. If Kieren were to let them, the memories would come to his mind now, the soft tunes of the mixtape, the feeling of Rick’s hand in his, dancing in the ever fading sunlight what felt so long ago. 

Kieren’s heart hurt at the sadness he felt when remembering those moments. He had been so happy, then.

“Yeah, it’s been a while” Kieren agreed, hugging his knees to his body. In the dim light of The Den it looked like Rick had aged a lot. A part of Kieren knew it had only been two months. Another part knew it had been two whole months.

His shoulders seemed broader, the laughter lines around his eyes more permanent. Rick’s hair was way shorter and he had a tan from being outside so much at the camp. There was a fading bruise on Rick’s jaw, no doubt a welcome-home-gift from his father. Hot acid burned at the back of Kieren’s mouth when he thought about Bill Macy.

“You’re looking at me” Rick commented, catching Kieren off guard.

“I am. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be” the other assured.

The conversation came to an end again. Kieren hadn’t anticipated it to be this hard. He had known it would be awkward, uncomfortable. But it seemed impossible to start. Where does one even start with things like that? How could Kieren ever say that he had fallen in love with the boy before him, his friend for countless years, his companion, his best mate.

Frustrated, Kieren pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, breathing out heavily. He could feel Rick staring at him, expectantly. 

“You kissed me.”

Kieren’s heart stopped. The world stopped. Everything stopped.

“Before I left for camp. Is that what’s bothering you?”

Unable to form words, Kieren just felt himself nod, hands still in front of his face. There was no way of telling if Rick was angry with him or if he was worried or annoyed. The older boy had a way of hiding his emotions very well.

“Ren, that’s okay. It’s okay.”

At that, Kieren removed his hands from his eyes, opening them. He saw his best mate sitting in front of him, not angry, not embarrassed. Just there. Just Rick. 

“I don’t want to lose you” Kieren admitted, his eyes locking with Rick’s, dark brown against light blue. “I’m scared things are gonna be different, now.”

His friend didn’t look away and Kieren didn’t want him to.

“I guess they are different.”

“But I don’t want them to be” Kieren said, feeling pathetic as his voice broke. He could feel tears sting in his eyes, having to close his eyelids to keep them from escaping.

“Things change. It’s what happens when you grow up” he heard his best friend’s voice proclaim. “That’s not always necessarily good or bad. It’s just different.”

Kieren attempted a weak laugh, keeping his eyes shut against the impending tears, burying his face in his knees. “When did you get all wise and philosophical, then?”

“Well, someone has to do it and you weren’t around at camp, so...”

A shared laugh, a faint echo from the cave repeating the sound.

The sound of rustling clothes came before the feeling of a warm hand on Kieren’s neck, who let out a small, surprised noise. Adrenaline rushing through his body, heating up his face and tingling in his fingers, Kieren felt the unfamiliar sensation of Rick pressing a kiss into his hair. 

When he dared to look up from his knees, Rick had retreated to his usual spot, arms crossed in front of his chest a faint blush creeping up in his cheeks. 

“See? Now we’re even. Don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Unable to process, Kieren just stared at his best mate. At Rick Macy, the bravest boy he knew. The kindest man. And so, so damaged. There was no good in telling him. Not now, not ever. How could he tell that to Rick whose father did not think twice about hurting his son and who would do so much worse if he ever knew. His eyes fell upon the bruise on the side of Rick’s face once more, his stomach turning at the sight of it. If Kieren could protect Rick from any more pain by feeling it himself then he would.

The realisation felt like ice inside Kieren but he ignored it. Ignored his heart screaming to be heard. Ignored his mind, flooded with memories of them dancing, of his birthday, of the kiss. Ignored it all. 

And with his heart freezing in its place, Kieren put on a casual smile.

“Now, tell me about camp.”


	15. Sticks and Stones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> physical abuse

Despite Kieren’s efforts, his heart had other plans.

While he could convince his mind that everything was normal again, that Rick and he were just close friends once more, his heart betrayed him at the worst possible times.

When watching a football match of Rick’s, cheering him on as per usual, he could not stop his heart from foolishly imagining the two boys after the game, celebrating the team’s win like the other players did with their girlfriends. When Rick was sprawled on the Walkers’ living room floor puzzled by some geometry homework, Kieren’s heart stupidly thought of laying down next to him, of their arms and legs touching, of intertwined fingers and faces so close. 

It was unpredictable. It was hell. The most familiar situations made Kieren feel the most unfamiliar sensations.

But he had learned a thing or two from his friend about hiding your emotions, about hiding the turmoil in your chest that roared and thundered every single second spent together. What kept both boys’ feelings at bay was one single person. One terrible, terrible man.

***

Visits to The Den had become more frequent again. Their old hideaway had transformed into their new hideaway. Kieren had switched out the old blankets for new ones and Rick had been sure to restock on the beer and snacks.

It had become a tradition that every Friday after school, Kieren allegedly went to an art club and Rick to a gymnastics club when in fact the two boys were headed to someplace else. Somewhere safe. Somewhere sound. A home for the lost boys.

That Friday, Kieren hadn’t seen Rick all day. That wasn’t unusual per se but the last three or so weeks Rick had come to visit him at lunchbreak and then after school so that they would head to The Den together.

When Kieren arrived at The Den, the sun has almost set, the October air crisp and clean against his skin. Kieren was surprised to find Rick already nestled into his favourite spot inside the cave.

“Hey, did you have a free period?”

No answer. Kieren didn’t walk over to his usual spot opposite his friend’s but instead sat down right next to Rick. Something felt off.

Rick had his face turned away from Kieren, unmoving. If it weren’t for the faint sounds of breathing, he could have been dead. The horrible thought crossed Kieren’s mind and sent shivers over the back of his neck.

“Rick?” asked Kieren, softly. He started to extend a hand to place on Rick’s shoulder, hesitated, retreated again.

“Ren, promise me you won’t freak out.”

Worry and apprehension mixed in Kieren’s stomach as he agreed to stay calm. Rick’s voice didn’t give anything away. This part was familiar to Kieren. 

But when his friend turned his face towards him, the sight Kieren was greeted with was so unfamiliar that it almost scared him. This time, his hand didn’t retreat.

Slowly, carefully, he placed it on the side of Rick’s head, just above his ear. Confused, angered, worried he let his thumb cautiously graze over the stitches on Rick’s eyebrow. His own fingers were a stark contrast against the sickly blue-ish hue around Rick’s eye. 

“Bill did this” Kieren said, not a question but a statement.

“I told you not to freak” Rick said, not angry but exhausted.

Kieren kept his hand placed on Rick’s face for a long time and if he minded Rick didn’t let Kieren know. When he finally removed his hand, it was shaking. He put it in his lap, grasping it with the other hand. Kieren felt himself boiling with hate.

“It doesn’t even hurt that much anymore” Rick attempted but his eyes betrayed him. There were tears in Rick’s hazy blue eyes, threatening to spill and wash away the brave façade he had erected around him. Threatening to show the truth. Kieren wanted them to.

“We have to do something. Go to the police. Call some child protective service or something. This isn’t right, Rick, you know that.”

“He’s my dad” was the only thing Rick mustered. 

“And he hurts you.” Kieren’s words were almost yells, a contrast to Rick’s soft tone.

“He’s my dad…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been like twelve years, whoops


	16. Paris Vol. I

February came as cold and rainy as it usually did. When the greyest of months hit Roarton, the two boys were wandering the open fields and scattered patches of trees almost two miles out of town. The brown houses weren’t even silhouettes anymore. The horizon had completely engulfed their little village and part of Kieren wanted the world to always be that way.

The two of them were going nowhere in particular, aimlessly strolling through the countryside that seemed to be the only thing existing in their world. The grey sky, the slight drizzle, the dried wildflowers and brown grass and them in between all of that.

“It feels like we’re the only two people in this world” Kieren remarked. 

“I wish” Rick scoffed, playfully bumping shoulders with Kieren. 

“Oi, my sister’s also part of this world you know” Kieren countered, shoving Rick half-heartedly away from him, giggling. His friend shot him a look of mock offence.

“Race you!” the older boy suddenly exclaimed and broke into a footballer’s sprint before Kieren had even registered the dare. 

Their world blurred around them as the two boys ran through the high grass, not minding the rain growing ever heavier that pelted their faces and soaked their shoes. 

Kieren stood no chance against his friend who had already reached one of the many small forests that were allowed to grow between the fields. Having lost sight of Rick, Kieren slowed down, jogging after the other boy, panting, wiping the rain from his eyes. 

“Rick?” Kieren asked. The trees of the forest were bare, spring still only a mere promise that had yet to be fulfilled. Somewhere in the depths within him, Kieren felt worry form. He willed it down although when he said: “Rick this isn’t funny, mate” Kieren made sure to make it sound earnest. 

Out of nowhere, something hit Kieren, taking him down onto the mossy forest floor. The boy let out a surprised although not frightened sound as Rick tumbled down with him already erupting into laughter. The boys wrestled on the wet earth, Rick keeping a tight grip on Kieren’s wrists who struggled underneath his friend, struggled against his heart racing for multiple reasons, against the image of Rick’s silhouette against the grey sky burning into his brain.

“That’s so not fair! You ambushed me.”

Rick, still laughing, pinned Kieren’s arms down at the sides of his head with relative ease. 

“Sorry man, you’re just such an easy target is all.”

They playfought for a little while longer, until Rick finally lifted himself off of his friend but only to lie down opposite him, the tops of their heads almost touching.

Kieren hoped his friend didn’t notice his shaky draw of breath or his slowly blushing face. Some days just feel like dreams, he thought.

“What if we just never stopped walking” Rick said. Most of the laughter, the ease of the play fight, had gone from his voice. Kieren marvelled at the changes, like tides, shaping and reshaping his best friend in a matter of heartbeats.

“Like, just walked right off the edge of the earth?” Kieren suggested. 

Overhead, the low grumble of thunder rolled across the sky, below that the naked branches of trees, below that two boys on the forest floor.

“No, as in ‘run away’. As in ‘just pack our things and leave this godawful place behind’.”

Kieren pondered his friend’s words. He had had this thought a lot himself. Surely, most sixteen year-olds caught themselves daydreaming about running away at one point or another. Arguably, Kieren had thought about running away a little more often than the average teenager, even tried once or twice, when he was a few years younger.

“Where would we even go?” asked Kieren, rolling over onto his stomach, propped up on his elbows. His eyes took their time to adjust to the absence of the blindingly grey sky. 

“Anywhere” Rick suggested. “London, Krakow, Hong Kong.”

“Paris?”

“Sure, if you want.”

“We could live in one of those small apartments above a boulangerie and watch the tourists from our window.”

Rick let out a small puff of air in amusement. “You’ve already planned it all out, haven’t you?”

“I think a lot.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Another thunder rumbled over them, not close enough for Kieren to not be able to imagine it being the rolling waves of the Cote D’Azur instead. Beaches and blue skies. And him and Rick, far away from places like Roarton and the people that lived in them. 

“Sounds like a solid plan to me” Rick concluded, his eyes following a lone bird crossing between the branches over them before they fixed in Kieren. Something in them was “I really mean it, you know? I want to get away from here and if you...”

“I’ll be right there with you, if you want me to.” In spite of his heavy, hungry heart, Kieren locked eyes with his friend, making sure that Rick knew he meant every word he said. And more. He would follow him right off the edge of the earth.

“Good” Rick said, softly.

“Good” Kieren repeated, determined.

Kieren didn’t hesitate to take the hand Rick stretched out.

“It’s you and me, against the world, mate. Ren and Rick, forever.” 

“Forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't get used to cute things, the next chapter is sad again, whoops


	17. Friend, Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PARIS   
> VOL. I - Tracklist  
> 1: Friend, Please - Twenty One Pilots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> implied mental health issues (depression)

There were little things that made Kieren smile. His sister Jem could do it. His mother, sometimes, too. And Rick, if he let him. But many other times, there were no smiles within him. Only festering darkness, spreading and corrupting his every fibre the very essence of him turning against him.

Many nights he couldn’t sleep, plagued by horribly empty thoughts and horribly vivid visions of a future full of pain and hardships. His parents sent him to the same man that had worked with Jem on her tiptoeing years ago. But those hours just felt like wasted energy, lifetime he could have spent doing anything else and it would have resulted in the same feeling of nothingness, of utter and complete lack of everything that had formerly made him Kieren. 

His art supplies Kieren rarely touched anymore and if he did he got frustrated at the shakiness of the lines, at the failure to portray what he wanted yet didn’t know how to come into reality, weather through words or art or any other way.

Despite it all, his days didn’t change much. School, homework, socialising, sleep. Only that now, each and everything was a strain on the boy. 

When the doctors prescribed him something to cure the pointlessness of his life and fill up his drained tanks with medical energy, it helped.

Rick said that he was proud of Kieren for taking that step. Kieren said that it hadn’t been his choice to make.

“I just want to feel what I did before.”

“Like what?”

“Like the rain. Like excitement. Like pain or fear. Like anything.”

Kieren found himself envy the look of true pity on Rick’s face when he spilled those words before his friend into the cavernous Den. He didn’t understand it. How did Rick find it in himself to conjure up this feeling over and over and over again whenever Kieren put another load of his burden on top of the other boy’s shoulders.

“How are you not annoyed by me yet?”

“I could never. Don’t say that” Rick said, sternly. The concern remained on his face, etched deep into the skin around his eyes, around his mouth. A year ago, Kieren would not have been able to stare at those features without his heart skipping a beat, without feeling overwhelmed by something indescribably fascinating. Now, there was a numbness to the way he casually let his eyes fall from Rick’s eyes to his lips and back up again. It was one of the worse days.

He watched Rick get up from his sitting position. The boy rummaged through his backpack for a moment before pulling out what looked like a small hunting knife. And then he began to carve. The stone of the Den’s wall split and gave way for the blade as it cut through it, lines and curves forming letters forming words.

“Ren plus Rick forever” Kieren read aloud as Rick had sat back down, this time next to Kieren.   
Like the sun unexpectedly breaking through a heavy blanket of clouds, Kieren felt the corners of his mouth twitch involountarily, felt his eyes sting instinctively.

“It’s a promise” Rick said. And Kieren smiled.

***

Kieren compared it to someone that had been in a car accident learning how to walk again when his sister Jem asked him to explain it.

The doctor said that there didn’t have to be a specific thing that triggers a mental illness to flare up. The brain didn’t always follow simple rules like that. And it would take time to accept and practice to work through that. The meds helped, of course. And so did his family. But Kieren couldn’t help but think that the most progress he made was when with his best friend.

Rick had worked out a ridiculous plan to one by one re-teach Kieren’s brain different emotions. And even though he knew that this was not how it worked, after two months he felt a change. It was like the black curtains that had been draped over the sun around him had started to turn sheer again, letting through some rays here and there. By September that year, the hopeless numbness of the depression had faded to a feeling of unease that ebbed and flooded from time to time but for the most part could be kept at bay.

“Your parents are out?” Rick asked. They were stood at the bus stop at school. Rick was still in his football uniform, despite the cold breeze that ruffled hairs and reddened noses of their peers around them.

“Yeah, they’re visiting grandma for the weekend. And Jem’s at Lisa’s for the night, I think.”

“Perfect. I’m staying over, then.”

“Why?” Kieren asked. Rick hadn’t slept at the Walker’s in years, let alone recent months. “What about your parents?”

“Dad’s on a hunting trip. I can ring mom from your place and tell her I’m at Philipp’s or something like that.”

The ride back into Roarton was spent comfortable silence and only when they entered Kieren’s bedroom, Rick broke it.

“Where’s your art supplies?” the boy asked, throwing his backpack onto Kieren’s bed and already looking around the room searching for them.

“They’re under my bed but … I haven’t touched them in months, Rick. What’s this supposed to be, for God’s sake” Kieren, slightly annoyed, followed his friends into his bedroom, suddenly very aware of all the mess. The unmade bed, the dusty shelves, his cluttered desk. 

“You know how I had that plan of re-wiring your brain?” Rick reminisced, half hidden under Kieren’s bed, emerging again with a handful of white canvases and a box that held charcoal, paints and brushes.

“Yeah?”

“Well, one of them was that you wanted to enjoy art again. So, we’re gonna do that.”

“What, now?” Kieren exclaimed, unsure of whether he should feel flattered of his friend’s continued support or ambushed by this plan or embarrassed by his mental state or all of them and more.

“Yes. Now. You can paint me, if you want.”

“Uh…”

Outside, the sound of a car door falling closed startled the two boys. Rick, previously smug and excited swiftly rose from the bed he had sat down on. 

“I thought your parents were away from the weekend?”

“They are. Must’ve been the neighbours. Relax” Kieren said, trying to sound soothing. Something dawned on him. 

Still, he closed the bedroom door behind himself before he headed to get his easel from behind the desk and take the other supplies that Rick had put onto the bed while the other boy slowly sat back down. 

“So, you want me to paint you, then?”

“I mean, sure, but like – “

“Okay, great.”

Kieren took his time mixing the colours, trying to conjure up the feeling of anticipation and creative excitement that it used to bring to him preparing for his favourite pastime. It didn’t work. Yet he caught Rick mesmerised, watching the play of the mixing colours. Maybe it did work, after all.

The first lines of the pencil felt unnatural, too harsh, too wobbly. The sensation of frustration that Kieren had grown used to threatened to overcome him. A look at Rick, excitedly waiting to serve as Kieren’s muse was all it took to wipe them away.

Feeling the brush and paint against the canvas, Kieren grew more and more confident, painting with an artist’s intuition, creating with an artist’s passion. Rick didn’t grow tired of his role. He talked the hours away, musing over old anecdotes and recent stories, involving Kieren every so often who was more than content just focusing on the familiar comfort of art.

When the sun began to lower in the sky, Kieren set aside his supplies for the day, regarding his unfinished piece. 

“Can I look?” Rick asked, cautiously but not entirely able to hide his excitement.

Kieren took the canvas and carried it over to his friend for the first time in a very long time not feeling anxiety but pride about something of his making. He handed Rick the piece who let his eyes wander, examining and admiring every single stroke of paint.

“This is amazing!”

“If you want, we can finish it tomorrow.”

Sincerity had always been something that Rick was good at conveying. So, when he agreed to Kieren’s plan there was no doubt in Kieren that his friend was not absolutely and completely honest about wanting to help him with that.

Rick was a person that needed purpose. Kieren needed a person willing to make him their purpose. They found what they were looking for in one another. 

***

Rick had offered to sleep on the downstairs but Kieren had managed to convince him to sleep in his bed while he took Jem’s. The mattress, that used to be stored under Kieren’s bed for the boys’ many sleepovers had long since gone.

In the morning, Kieren woke to the sound of someone breathing. When he opened his eyes, he found Rick asleep on Jem’s bedroom floor, Kieren’s comforter wrapped around him, sleeping soundly.

“You screamed” Rick explained while Kieren set up the easel once more. The early morning light dipped both boys in a golden sheen and Kieren allowed him to linger a little on the play of light in the eyes of friend.

“I did?”

“Last night. I tried to wake you up but you didn’t. Must’ve been a hell of a nightmare.”

“Well, I can’t remember it so it couldn’t have been that bad” Kieren lied, the images of his little sister, throat cut open still haunted him when he blinked.

“Anyway. I stayed there in case it happened again.”

“You’re a good friend, Rick. And that is one hell of an understatement.”

“I try” Rick said, looking away from Kieren, seemingly in mock bashfulness but Kieren caught the slight blush that had crept onto Rick’s face.

It took another two and a half hours for Kieren to finish the painting. It certainly was no masterpiece and not even one of the better ones he had created but the expression that lit up Rick’s face when Kieren showed him the finished work turned the portrait into the favourite art piece of his.

“So, did you enjoy it? Painting this?”

“Yeah” Kieren said, truthfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: *doesn't update for literally like half a year*  
> also me: so i am determined to have this thing done before the end of the week
> 
> there's going to be 30 or 31 chapters. also yes, the titles are actual song titles that will form a tracklist. they are all songs from my already existing rickren playlist which you can find here: https://open.spotify.com/user/treeriam/playlist/1K1Qhf9HJzKxRgN6L0Qdni


	18. Sick of Losing Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PARIS VOL. I  
> Tracklist  
> 1: Friend, Please - Twenty One Pilots  
> 2: Sick of Losing Soulmates - dodie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> alcohol abuse  
> anxiety/social anxiety  
> heteronormativity/forced heterosexuality  
> non-consensual intimacy (sfw though, i just don't want to spoil too much!!)

Against all odds, Rick’s team scored, last minute, winning the final game of the season. The two teams had been going head to head for most of the game keeping the crowds entertained and cheering on their favourites. In the end the local team captain Brock Worthington scored a phenomenal goal, the crowd erupting in screams and even Kieren couldn’t help but applaud the boy that had bullied him throughout his school years.

It was tradition that the winning team invited the other team’s players and basically everyone else to a party at someone’s house, supplying more alcohol than could be found in all corner stores of Roarton added together.

Kieren had never been to one of these afterparties, or any party per se, yet when Rick asked him to come, he heard himself agree to tag along. 

***

Inside Brock Worthington’s house was a place Kieren would have never expected to be much less to enjoy himself. Yet there he was, surrounded by blurred faces and strobe lights and the sound of booming, unmelodic music and boys yelling ecstatically. 

Kieren stayed a little to the side, sipping from his bottle of beer every so often, surprised at the ease with which he was handling the situation. Before coming, he had had a sudden rush of panic overcome him whilst putting on his outfit. A sudden fear that he would be terrible at the whole party business. That he would hate it, become anxious and make a fool of himself. So, it was all the more surprising as he found himself engaging in some small talk with Rick’s teammates, swaying to the monotone music. Rick himself had excused himself to play some kind of drinking game with Brock and his gang.

“Is it okay if I leave you for a bit?” Rick had asked, sounding actually concerned. Kieren had given him a grin.

“I’m not five, Rick. I think I can handle being on my own for a while, thank you very much.”

And with that, his friend had vanished in between the footballers and their girlfriends and everyone else.

“You’re that Kieren boy, aren’t you?” Kieren turned around to face a tall girl with glasses, long dark hair and amber skin. He thought that probably he had seen her at some of the matches, suspected that she was one of the players’ girlfriend. 

“Yeah” he shrugged, unsure of what else to say. Thankfully, the colourful yet dim lights made his flushed cheeks unrecognisable. For some reason, he hadn’t thought that Rick would’ve told these people that they were friends. They rarely got the chance to see each other at school so Kieren had concluded that no one knew about their friendship. 

“Rick say you’re an artist! That’s so neat!” The group of people somewhat involved in their conversation started nodding their heads or making “ohhh” sounds at that. Perplexed at their reaction Kieren simply smiled sheepishly. This was not the way he was used to being treated by the popular kids. Even though the bullying had stopped a while ago, he’d always felt alienated by their looks and whispers in the school hallways, felt judged by every person he passed. But maybe he had judged them, too.

“Can you draw me?” the girl asked, a little over-excitedly. Two girls who were stood next to her started giggling uncontrollably, the drinks in their hands almost spilling over.

“Uhh, sure?” 

They talked for a little longer, most of their little group disbanding until only the girl, whose name was Afifa, and Kieren were left. The two of them had gone upstairs at some point when talking over the music had become too strenuous for their casual conversation. They were sitting on a bench under the window at the far end of the second floor hallway. The downstairs party’s music had faded to a pulsing beat in the background.

Afifa had started to talk about her ex-boyfriend Rhys who was not on the football team anymore as he had graduated the previous year.

“I’m just so glad I don’t have to see his stupid face anymore.” Her rant had become less and less sad and more furiously determined over the course of it. 

“Honestly, you are much better off without him. From what you’ve said he sounds like a total jerk. You deserve better than that” Kieren offered and he really meant it. Afifa seemed like a nice enough girl, if maybe a little obnoxiously enthusiastic.

Somewhere below them what sounded like the whole football team erupted into loud shouts and hollering. It sounded almost like a fight. 

“You know what, Kieren? You’re right! I do deserve better than Rhys” Afifa exclaimed, her hands balling into fists.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck him and his poor ass decision making!”

“Yeah!”

“I deserve better!”

And then she was kissing him. 

It took Kieren a few seconds to realise the situation, for his brain to form a coherent thought, for his body to react. He jumped up from the bench, stepping away, confused and, to his surprise, angry.

Afifa looked at him, eyes round behind her glasses, slowly bringing her hand up to her mouth, covering it. She started crying.

“I’m –“ Kieren started, searching for the words within him but all he could find was that anger now inexplicably mixed with a sense of guilt. It hurt behind his ribs. “I’m sorry, Afifa. I … I need to go. I’m really sorry.”

The further down the stairs he went, the more the music drowned out the girl’s sobs and soon Kieren couldn’t hear her anymore at all. 

Drifting through the crowd, his eyes searched for a familiar face, for the short hair and blue eyes that would maybe hold an explanation for all of this. That would hopefully cleanse him of the anger burning in his eyes, clouding his head. Suddenly, all the appeal of the party was lost, replaced by irritation and annoyance. Kieren wanted to scream. He wanted everyone to be quiet. His heart was hammering inside his chest and a wave of panic washed over him, pulling him from the shore, threatening to consume him fully. If he didn’t make it to a safe haven soon, he would drown in it. 

“Have you seen Rick?” Kieren asked someone. He didn’t recognise the persons’ face, couldn’t concentrate on her features long enough.

The person pointed to the direction of the vast conservatory where people played beer pong and others sat on couches, talking, laughing, making out. Kieren stumbled down the few steps into the large glass room, frantically looking for Rick in the masses. 

Kieren almost fell when he bumped into someone but the other person quickly grabbed his arm to steady the blond boy. It was Rick.

“Woah there, mate. Watch where you’re going” Rick said, audibly slurring.

Almost immediately, the feeling of utter panic subsided, leaving Kieren’s body, his eyes regaining clarity as did his mind. At the same time, the scene inverted, Rick stumbling and Kieren steadying his friend. It was astounding how this could yield Kieren’s focus until there was only this moment and his instincts telling him to get Rick somewhere safe.

“You’re drunk” Kieren noted. 

“No I’m not!” Rick mumbled, shaking Kieren’s hand off his arm before crossing his own in front of his chest.

“Hell yeah he is” one of Rick’s teammates exclaimed, clapping Rick on the back as he walked by, laughing.

“I’m taking you home, come on” Kieren said, motioning for Rick to follow him who, reluctantly at first, followed him. Where Kieren had had to push himself through the tightly knit crowd of celebrating teens, most of them noticed and made way for him now that Rick was there as well. Kieren noticed that some of them regarded his friend with raised eyebrows and frowns, shaking their heads at him. He just hurried his friend outside. 

***

Outside, the night was freezing and the moon showered the boys in its equally cool silver. The city in which Brock lived was a 45 minute train ride from Roarton. Kieren didn’t know the schedule by heart but he knew that the last train back would leave at 2am and that it was definitely not 2am already. So, they made their way, Rick stumbling slowly next to him.

“Did I … do something?” Rick asked.

“You’re really drunk” Kieren said.

“No, I know, I know. But I didn’t say anything? Do something … something bad?” Rick sounded genuinely scared and when Kieren caught his face passing under the streetlamps his eyes were downcast.

“Not that I know of, no” Kieren admitted. “Is that… is that something that usually happens? When you get drunk, I mean?”

Rick didn’t answer right away. After a few minutes Kieren thought that maybe his intoxicated friend had forgotten about his question.

“Yeah.” The word hung heavily between them. 

“I hate that. I can’t … it’s like I can’t control it. I am watching from the outside, seeing all the stupid things I do when I’m drunk. I hate it.”

“I don’t think anything like that happened tonight.”

They arrived at the small train station. The time on the electronic schedule read 1:46am. The boys sat down on one of the metal benches scattered around the station. Rick was leaning heavily against Kieren, making the other nervously look around for any other partygoers that might be heading home via this train. Rick, in his drunken haze, didn’t seem to care. He let his head come to rest on Kieren’s shoulder. He heard Rick breathe deeply, like he was falling asleep.

“I hate being drunk, Ren. It turns me into him. It turns me into my father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter felt like such a wild ride, honestly i didn't even know where exactly i wanted to end up most of the time. it's also me reusing my first draft for chapter 7


	19. Motion Picture Soundtrack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PARIS VOL. I  
> Tracklist  
> 1: Friend, Please - Twenty One Pilots  
> 2: Sick of Losing Soulmates - dodie  
> 3: Motion Picture Soundtrack - Vitamin String Quartett

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> implied/referenced heteronormativity/forced heterosexuality  
> mentioned non-consensual intimacy

Despite his outer appearance – leather jackets, ripped jeans, uncombed hair – teachers generally liked Kieren. His art teacher even gave him a key to the arts and crafts room to use over the winter break. Even though he had never talked to him about his mental state, Kieren suspected that Mr Nolan knew about it. He was a kind man and Kieren appreciated the gesture.

He spent almost every day in the arts room, painting, sketching, crafting. Once he took Jem with him but mostly it was Rick. Rick just sat on one of the tables to read or do course work or they just used the room as a safe space to talk, sort of a warmer version of the Den although Rick didn’t let his guard down as much as he did in the cave.

At some point, they started talking about the football match two weeks prior and the after party. Rick confessed to not remembering how he got home exactly.

“I only know that I told you that I hate getting drunk. Or at least I hope it was you.”

“It was me” Kieren reassured his friend. They were sat on top of two tables, Kieren had his sketchpad on his lap lazily letting the charcoal glide over the roughened pages.

“What were you even up to while I was getting shitfaced? Hell, I said I’d only be a few minutes but I was gone for hours…”

“I talked to some of the people there. They were nice” Kieren interrupted him, sensing the guilt Rick was feeling about having left Kieren on his own with people who were mostly strangers to him. In all honesty, Kieren hadn’t really minded. Apart from the situation with the girl. Maybe it was time for him to confess something about that night.

“One of them was named Afifa” he started, unsure of whether he wanted to tell the rest of the story. The inexplicable feeling of anger that had overcome him at that moment of the night started to take form in his stomach. He willed it down. 

“Tall, Pakistani and these really big glasses?” Smiling, Rick held his fingers up to symbolise the glasses. Kieren nodded. There was no turning back now.

“She kissed me.”

Slowly, Ricks hands sank down again and with it the smile. “Oh.”

“Yeah. We had been talking about her ex-boyfr – “

“Did you kiss her back?” 

Kieren felt tense, rolling his shoulders to loosen them up, failing, squirming on the table. He felt uneasy, like he was on trial for some sort of crime. Kieren managed to look up from where his eyes had fixated on his sketch. He studied the expression on Rick’s face. But Rick didn’t look like he was judging him. He looked concerned.

“No. No, I didn’t” Kieren said, surprised at how calm he sounded in spite of his inner turmoil. 

“Why not?” asked Rick. He sounded calm as well.

Kieren wanted to scream. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t the place and certainly not the conversation. It was supposed to be under the stars on a warm summer’s night heading back from a movie or in the Den after a shared laugh over some melancholy story from their shared childhood. At the Cote D’Azur, watching the sun set, far, far away from Roarton. Kieren wanted to cry.

Please don’t make me say it, he thought. Not here. Not like this.

“She was drunk. She didn’t think and I barely even knew her. We’d only been talking for like an hour.”

They didn’t say anything for a long while afterwards, Rick moving to sit by the window to finish proofreading his assignment while Kieren bit back tears, scratching charcoal onto the paper until nothing of the original drawing was left.

***

After an hour or so, Rick got up from his window seat. The sun outside was beginning to set, the golden rays falling in around him as he walked over to Kieren. He looked up and met his best friend’s eyes, glowing golden.

“I want you to draw me” Rick said, his voice barely above a whisper, sending a shiver down Kieren’s spine.

They switched positions so that Rick’s face would be illuminated by the setting sun’s light. I’m sorry, said Rick’s eyes as Kieren studied them. I’m sorry too, said his charcoal lines. 

The older boy didn’t flinch when Kieren touched his index and middle finger to his jaw, softly turning his face to the side. The intimacy of it made Kieren’s heart hurt. When he retreated his hand, he noticed Rick following the line of his fingers intensely before looking up and locking eyes with him.

The sun set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end is nigh, kids


	20. Hello My Old Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PARIS VOL. I  
> Tracklist  
> 1: Friend, Please - Twenty One Pilots  
> 2: Sick of Losing Soulmates - dodie  
> 3: Motion Picture Soundtrack - Vitamin String Quartett  
> 4: Hello My Old Heart - The Oh Hellos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> implied abuse  
> implied homophobia
> 
> THIS WAS IN LARGE PARTS INSPIRED BY TWO OVERWHELMINGLY BEAUTIFUL RICKREN FANFICS  
> Wilted Memories by Alligates (http://archiveofourown.org/works/5369459)  
> Wildflowers by angelwing (http://archiveofourown.org/works/3985489)

March melted winter off of Roarton Valley, slowly growing spring into front lawns and hearts and replacing clouds and wind with sun and blue skies. 

The two boys were sat in the Den listening Kieren’s newest mixtape, bobbing their heads or swaying to the soft tunes echoing though the caves. They were talking about nothing in particular, just letting the words fall comfortably and effortlessly. 

“I’m just really nervous about the fight on Sunday.” Rick had recently joined a martial arts team due to his track team having disbanded after not enough new people had signed in that semester. His father wouldn’t let him not to a second sport. According to Rick, it was Bill’s firm belief that boys that did sports were better behaved as they were disciplined by coaches and had less time to mess about. 

“You’re gonna be great. Didn’t your coach say that you were one of the most promising new trainees he’s had in years?” Kieren gave his friend an affirming smirk and Rick rolled his eyes as a response.

“Still. I don’t know. I guess I’m just not cut out to fight, is all.”

Now it was Kieren’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’ve literally never seen anyone more competitive in my life than you, Rick. I don’t think anyone stands a chance if you really want to win.”

Something clouded Rick’s gaze for a moment. “My dad does” he said, his voice gravelly. 

“He won’t. Not forever” Kieren said and he meant it. “Someday, you will be far, far away from him and what he says or does will not matter anymore.” Bill Macy was a terrifying force to be reckoned with, a storm waiting to rage. Kieren hadn’t been to his house in more than three years. He’d seen this man reduce his wife to a shadow and his son to a frightened, obedient mess. And if Kieren had to do so himself, Bill Macy would not get to keep power over Rick’s life for much longer.

“You really believe that, don’t you, Ren?” Rick whispered, the hint of a smile on his lips. 

“I do.”

***

“I want to show you something” Rick suddenly exclaimed, making Kieren bolt up from his almost-nap. His neck and knees hurt from him having been leaning against a cave wall as he got up and followed his friend out of the Den. 

Blinking against the blinding sunlight, Kieren stumbled outside after Rick. The air was warm and rich with the smell of composting leaves and fresh grass. Rick was already halfway across the clearing when Kieren’s eyes finally adjusted to the change in brightness.

When he had caught up with his friend he asked: “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise” Rick teased. So Kieren just silently tagged along while Rick was making his way through the trees and bushes. They rarely walked through these woods apart from getting to and from the Den. It was simply too close to Roarton to be safe that no one would accidently stumble upon the two. If they went exploring, it was always at least two or three miles away from the town. For Rick to walk these woods so confidently, with Kieren by his side nonetheless was something new and exciting that made Kieren’s heart hope that his words back in the Den had been the truth. That a future where Bill Macy didn’t dictate how they could live their lives. A future where they wouldn’t have to hide in caves and far away forests. Kieren almost dared to hope that that future was going to become reality sooner rather than later.

“Okay… we’re almost here. I need you to close your eyes, now.” Rick had stopped in his tracks, turning around to face his friend.

“Why?” Kieren asked.

“Because it’s a surprise, idiot. Come on!”

“Fine” Kieren begrudgingly closed his eyes. The very moment he started to wonder how he was going to walk through the forest for the remaining however long Rick’s hand wrapped around his. Kieren had to concentrate on his breath for it to not show his nervousness as his best friend lead him through the woods by his hand. Rick’s hand was warm in his. He was tempted to open his eyes, just to see it, just to be sure this wasn’t some absurd dream.

But before he could decide for or against that, he was stopped by Rick’s other hand placed square on his chest. His friend must have felt Kieren’s racing heart, his breath hitching. 

“Alright, you can look now” said Rick’s voice, both his hands having left Kieren as the other boy slowly opened his eyes.

Once again, he was struck by the blinding light of the sun but beyond that he could see a surging ocean of colour. White and purple and yellow. A green oasis in between the brown of trees and shrub.

“Isn’t it absolutely stunning?” Rick asked, having advanced into the clearing, extending his arms to indicate everything. Surrounded by trees grew an abundance of snowdrops, speckled by the bright yellow and soft lilac of crocuses, making for a spectacle of colour.

Overwhelmed, Kieren took an unsure step towards his friends, further into the flowers. “I didn’t even know these bloomed this early.”

“It’s been so warm the last few weeks, guess mother nature made an early comeback this year.”

Attempting to take in the marvellous scene, Kieren slowly turned around himself, stopping when he faced his friend. “How did you even find this place?”

“Went hunting with my dad around here a little while ago and I saw all these like buds and stuff and I knew it was something you’d like. It reminds me of that one painting you showed me, the ‘Flowering Garden’ or whatever it’s called by van Gogh?”

“Rick” Kieren whispered, unable to process. The flowers, the sun, Rick. And he was smiling. In this green and white paradise, Rick Macy was beaming at Kieren.

“It feels like another planet, doesn’t it?” Rick said.

“And it’s like we’re the only two people that live on it” Kieren added.

***

Kieren let the warmth of the sun soak into his skin as he lay in the clearing, surrounded by flowers. Rick lay next to him, close enough for their legs to almost touch. They were pointing out figures in the clouds above them or spotting birds, whichever appeared in the sky. Kieren almost felt drunk with the tranquillity of the moment, his heart and boy having slowed down to match the apparent pace of their little blooming piece of paradise.

“That one looks like a frog that’s eating a hot dog… or maybe it’s a snake. A long frog or a snake.”

Despite trying his best to ignore it, Kieren started to feel a growing suspicion. The perfection of it all, Rick lying next to him in a field of flowers, it seemed surreal. 

Bill Macy was a shadow constantly hovering over the two of them, dictating their every move, banning their friendship into caves and empty classrooms. This wasn’t something they did. They didn’t just lie out in the open. 

“Is this real?” Kieren asked, unable to hold back.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” he heard Rick answer, confused and concerned.

“Because we’re out in the open. We don’t do stuff like that. We never have.” He hated how pathetic he sounded. 

“Maybe we could. Maybe your speech back in the Den made me believe in something. That maybe we will. Someday.”

If Kieren closed his eyes and concentrated on it, he could feel Rick’s breath against the side of his neck, the soft grass underneath his fingertips, the sun on his face. And suddenly, it all felt more real than anything. He felt his heart pound heavily against his ribs, felt the blood rushing in his ears. No, his dreams were never like this.

“You really think so?” Kieren asked, eyes still closed. 

“I do. I really do. Someday.” 

Between them, their hands found one another. First hesitant, Kieren’s fingers reached for Rick’s whose own wrapped around his, holding them firmly. Slowly, Kieren opened his eyes again and turned his head. Brown eyes met blue. The sky could never compete with those eyes. Kieren could spent the rest of his days content just staring into Rick Macy’s eyes, forgetting the world around them, forgetting everything but them.

“You are beautiful, Kieren Walker. And I really, really wish I could change the way things are. I wish we didn’t have to hope for ‘someday’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i guess i won't finish it. just yet. you just wait  
> a chirstmas chapter is on the way  
> and we all know how our boy can get on christmas  
> drinking eggnog,  
> cuddling under the christmas tree?  
> hm


	21. On The Nature of Daylight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PARIS VOL. I  
> Tracklist  
> 1: Friend, Please - Twenty One Pilots  
> 2: Sick of Losing Soulmates - dodie  
> 3: Motion Picture Soundtrack - Vitamin String Quartett  
> 4: Hello My Old Heart - The Oh Hellos  
> 5: On The Nature of Daylight - Max Richter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> implied mental health issues  
> implied homophobia and abuse

When Kieren came home he went straight to his little sister’s room. He knew, if anyone would listen to him it would be her. Jem adored her older brother and he loved her more than anything.

She answered almost immediately. Inside, Jem was set on her bed watching some movie on the TV she’d gotten last Christmas. She stopped, the screen showing a man and a woman about to kiss. 

“What’s up” Jem asked, scooting over to make space for her brother on the bed, who sat down next to her. “Who are those from?”

Kieren held up the flowers in question, a small bouquet of snowdrops and leaves. His heart skipped a beat just by looking at them, remembering the other boy picking them before shyly handing them to him, their fingers brushing against each other, lingering for a moment too long.

“They’re from Rick.”

Jem raised an eyebrow at him. “Our Rick? Rick Macy?”

“Yeah” he confirmed, smiling at the way she’d said: ‘our Rick’. Until a few months ago, Rick had spent almost every free second of his day at the Walker’s, a safe space for the boy. He and Jem had gotten along very well, Jem even insisting that he was her second brother when she was a few years younger. But when everything started to go sideways between Rick and Kieren, the older boy stopped being Jem’s brother and became only an occasional topic of discussion mostly, Kieren realised painfully, linked with Kieren’s mental health status. 

“You two are unbelievable” Jem sighed, letting herself fall back against her pillows theatrically.

“What do you mean?” Kieren asked.

“I mean, sometimes you two are best friends and then he makes you cry and not leave your room for days and now he gives you flowers? It’s exhausting. And don’t give me that ‘it’s complicated, you’ll understand when you’re older’-crap you like to pull because I understand better than you think.” 

“What do you mean?” Kieren repeated but this time he referred to something else. Was his little sister implying what he thought she might?

“Lisa and I are girlfriends now, Kier” she said as if it were the most obvious fact. Which it probably wasn’t. He instantly felt guilty for not having known already and even more when he noticed that it had been due to him spending more time away from home, away with Rick, recently. They really were being exhausting for others to witness, he reckoned.

“That’s so cool, I’m happy” Kieren decided to say. “How long have you two been ‘official’ then?”

“It’s only been since Monday but we’ve basically been together for like a year. Just not ‘officially’” she said, mimicking Kieren’s airquotes in mockery.

They talked a while about how Jem and Lisa had gotten together and how neither of their friends had been surprised and that Jem wanted to wait before telling their parents just in case it didn’t work out. But when Kieren listened to her talk there was no doubt that his sister really loved that girl. They’d been friends for years, inseparable in a good way. In a way, they were a lot like Rick and him. In a way, they weren’t like them at all.

“You know, if Rick and you ever make it ‘official’ can I be flower girl at your wedding?” Jem said with a roll of her eyes.

“Depends. Are you and Lisa willing to come to Paris for that?” Kieren went along with her joke but only half-joking. He silently hoped that she was too. Did she really think it was possible in some distant future, for him and Rick to be happy and safe like that?

“Oh, Paris, now?” Jem had rolled onto her stomach, looking up at her older brother with a challenging smirk.

“Yep. We’ve got it all planned out. As soon as we’re done with school, it’s au revoir Roarton and bonjour Paris. No more Bill Macy, no more hiding.”

His sister seemed to think about that statement and part of Kieren started to feel embarrassed at his foolish optimism. But then Jem put on a smile and its warmth melted the insecurities away in an instant. Even when he had been at his worst, merely a few weeks ago, her smiles would always make his heart beat again normally for a little bit. He didn’t dare imagine a world where his sister wasn’t on his side.

“I’d like to live in Paris with you. Would give me the opportunity to keep an eye on Rick so he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

Kieren laughed. “Stupid like what?”

“Stupid like breaking my big brother’s heart.”

“Good thing you’re looking out for me, then” the blond boy said, now less than half joking. He knew that if worse came to worst he’d always find consolation within his little sister, whose heart would always have enough space for him and all his troubles. 

“You know I’ll look out for you too, right?” Kieren asked, earning a bright smile from Jem.

“Of course. We’ll always have each other’s backs!” She said it in a serious manner but the smile remained. “Have you told mom and dad?” 

Kieren looked at the bundle of snowdrops still in his hands. He’d thought about telling his parents about his feelings for Rick multiple times, especially after his first depressive episode directly related to his best friend. They probably suspected it anyway. 

“No” Kieren finally said. “And I don’t think I will. Not now. Not until it’s safe. Not until it’s ‘official’. Are you gonna tell them? About you and Lisa?” 

Jem shook her head in response but where Kieren felt sadness about having to keep his feelings secret for the sake of Rick’s safety, she just smirked sheepishly. There didn’t have to be worries like that for her. Lisa’s parents were kind and caring people, as far as Kieren was concerned, they’d be more than supportive of their daughter’s relationship with Jem. He watched her talk and talk, her cheeks reddening with both embarrassment and excitement. The more she talked, the less he said. The more she said, the less he felt like he could bear listening.

The worst part was, that he found himself envying his sister, the ease with which she began recalling tales of their blooming relationship, sweet anecdotes full of young love and innocence. He realised that he could probably count instances like that between Rick and him on one hand. Staring at the paused TV screen, Kieren fought the urge to cry as his mind wandered to all the times things had been terrible between Rick and him. All the downs in their friendship. About Abigail Williams and about football camp and about Bill Macy.

“Kier? Are you still listening?” His little sister’s voice got him out of his trance.

He wiped at his eyes before getting up from the bed.

“Yeah, sorry. Didn’t sleep very well last night.”

“Kier” Jem said, this time all traces of excitement were gone. He felt terribly sorry for robbing her of that joy. But he couldn’t help himself. He needed to start figuring things out instead of just daydreaming. It was time he focused on the days leading up to forever.

“I’m really happy for you and Lisa, I am. Just… do me a favour and forget about Paris for a while.” 

And with that, he closed her bedroom door behind him cowardly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's for my main dudes pastelz0mbie and rywai, the only two people that read this!! you are the best!!


	22. It's Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PARIS VOL. I  
> Tracklist  
> 1: Friend, Please - Twenty One Pilots  
> 2: Sick of Losing Soulmates - dodie  
> 3: Motion Picture Soundtrack - Vitamin String Quartett  
> 4: Hello My Old Heart - The Oh Hellos  
> 5: On The Nature of Daylight - Max Richter  
> 6: It's Okay (Acoustic) - Tom Rosenthal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> implied abuse

While neither of the boys had said the words out loud, things between them changed. Ever so slightly, their friendship evolved, Paris becoming more and more of a possibility every time their hands brushed together or their eyes locked for a while or Kieren’s heart skipped a beat at the way Rick said his name.

Despite everything, Kieren hadn’t been back at the Macy house in years. Rick, on the other hand, had become a frequent guest at the Walker’s yet again, much to Jem’s delight. Kieren’s mom had been rather cold to the boy but when Kieren assured her that they were and would remain on good terms, she slowly warmed up to him again. To the point, that when on Christmas Eve Rick Macy stood on their porch, dishevelled and with a fresh cut on his chin, she was the first one to wish him a happy Christmas and offer him to stay as long as he’d want to.

Rick didn’t have to explain what had happened. Kieren knew, instantly, what must have happened and the rage inside him boiled like liquid fire as his father handed Rick some frozen peas for his wound.

After the dinner, they played games sat in the living room. Rick proved to be incredibly good at ludo. He even wore the silly reindeer antlers that were a tradition in the Walker household. They were an older pair that Jem had gone and gotten from the shed almost immediately after Rick’s unplanned arrival. 

His family set up to play yet another round while Kieren excused himself to get his sketchbook in order to draw the scene. When he came back from his room with his supplies, the picture before him hit him with unexpected force. 

His parents were sat on the sofa, his dad’s arm around his mom’s shoulder whose antlers had gotten lopsided from throwing her head back in laughter so much. Jem and Rick sat on the floor. Kieren’s sister was arguing with Rick, jokingly accusing him of cheating. His best friend grinned, shoving her playfully, accusing her of simply being bad at the game. Beyond them stood the Christmas tree, festive string lights glistening a hundredfold echoing in the baubles. 

Kieren’s sketch is left unfinished as his parents and Jem leave for bed, talking in hushed voices, laughing, speculating about presents. 

“You boys going up as well?” asked Kieren’s dad, halfway out the living room.

“Yeah, not just yet, dad” said Kieren.

“Okay. See you tomorrow, kids.” He said and went up the stairs, closing the living room door behind him, leaving behind only Kieren and Rick and the Christmas tree.

Rick was still sat on the floor but he was now leaning against the sofa, slightly flushed from the excitement of playing games. Leaving his sketchbook behind, Kieren moved to sit next to his friend. When he turned his face to look at him he could see the lights from the Christmas tree reflect in Rick’s eyes.

“Man,” sighed Rick, “is this how Christmas always is with your family?”

Without looking away from Rick’s face, Kieren nodded. 

“Pretty much, I guess. Food, board games and stupid antlers.” 

There was no point in asking whether Rick’s family did something similar. The last time Kieren had been allowed at the Macy house around Christmas time, Bill Macy had had a feud with a neighbour about decorating. After that, he only knew what Rick had told him. That the feud had stopped, that Bill had gotten bored. That he watched sports on the TV and drank too much and the only differentiation between Christmas and a regular evening was that they went to church before and the switch from beer to eggnog and scotch.

Kieren let his eyes fall down to Rick’s chin. The cut on his face had already started to turn purple. Cautiously, Kieren extended his hand, cupping the bruised part of Rick’s jaw. Rick closed his eyes, let out another sigh.

“He cannot do this to you” Kieren whispered into the small space between them, somehow scared to raise his voice, scared it would break the moment, the spell that had come over them allowing them to be this close at a place that wasn’t a cave or some far away forest.

“He’s my dad, Ren.”

“That doesn’t make it right” Kieren countered.

“I know.”

They’ve played this game many times. Those lines felt terribly familiar in Kieren’s ears. He could only hope that one day he would manage to make Rick believe them as he believed them. And he would never stop trying.

Slowly, Kieren took his hand away from Rick’s face, instead placing it on his friend’s hand. To his surprise, Rick flinched away from the touch, retreating his hand close to his chest. It was an instinctive move, one that Kieren had been confronted with a handful of times already. And over the course of those months, Kieren has learned better than to feel hurt by this. Instead, he locked eyes with his friend, trying to say as much as he could without speaking any words. He searched in those eyes until he found what he was looking for. 

He smiled.

Hesitantly, Rick began to relax and finally takes the hand Kieren had left on the floor between them.

“I’m sorry” Rick said, sounding truly exasperated. The tree’s lights were caught in the tears welling up in the boy’s eyes.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind” Kieren reassured his friend. He squeezed the other’s hand. Rick squeezed back.

“I know you don’t. Which is what makes it so much worse…”

“No, it’s not. It’s what makes it work” Kieren pressed. He wouldn’t allow this, not on Christmas Eve, not at any other time. He couldn’t bear looking at the boy he’d fallen in love with and see only what Bill Macy had left him with that day. He hated how much that man was ruining that son and how little he cared. 

But Rick was here. He was here and he was okay. They were together and for once Kieren could truly feel that they were completely safe. He hoped that Rick knew that. He hoped that he felt the same way. About so many things.

They sat like that for a while, leaning against the sofa and against each other, watching the tree and watching one another.

***

At three in the morning, after Kieren had drifted off a couple of times, he decided to go up to bed.

Despite his efforts, Rick insisted on staying downstairs to sleep on the sofa. Kieren got an old comforter which Rick reluctantly accepted.

“Good night, Rick” Kieren whispered, as he went to leave the room. Just as he reached for the door, he was stopped by two arms pulling him into a tight hug. His face pressed into the crook of Rick’s neck he heard the other boy whisper: “I don’t deserve you, Kieren Walker. But I’m glad you still try.”

And then Rick kissed the top of Kieren’s head like he had done all those months ago. But this time, it wasn’t a quick gesture, and this time, they were not hiding away in the Den. 

“Happy Christmas, Ren” Rick breathed into Kieren’s hair.

“Happy Christmas, Rick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, i also hate Christmassy stuff invading my treasured autumn time  
> but you gotta admit that this was sort of really cute


	23. Skinny Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PARIS VOL. I  
> Tracklist  
> 1: Friend, Please - Twenty One Pilots  
> 2: Sick of Losing Soulmates - dodie  
> 3: Motion Picture Soundtrack - Vitamin String Quartett  
> 4: Hello My Old Heart - The Oh Hellos  
> 5: On The Nature of Daylight - Max Richter  
> 6: It's Okay (Acoustic) - Tom Rosenthal  
> 7: Skinny Love - Birdy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for:  
> implied abuse

“With all the candles lit and the music playing, you could almost pretend this were a nice little house and not just some cave in the woods” said the blond boy.

For the new year, Kieren had used his Christmas money to buy some new supplies for the Den, including candles and cushions, snacks and a new CD player. 

Part of him knew that this was counterproductive. By making the cave a better hideaway the need to realise their plans to go out and find a safe space away from Roarton became less pressing matters. 

But maybe he knew that. 

Maybe, by keeping them here, where they’d been together for the past five years, he avoided facing the possibility of their plans failing. Of something going wrong. Of getting caught, of Bill finding out. The Den was not the most safe. The Den was easy.

Kieren looked at the words Rick had etched into the stone. Ren + Rick 4 Ever. He looked over at his friends. Nowadays, they always sat on the same side of the Den.

“Let’s dance” he said, grinning. In an instant, he was up on his feet, offering a hand for Rick to take. The other seemed a bit more hesitant but after a few seconds he rolled his eyes, turned up the volume and took Kieren’s hand.

It was strangely reminiscent of the time the two had gotten drunk off beer stolen from Bill and Rick had made Kieren dance with him in front of the Den. He could barely remember it. A drunken haze, an emotional mess. So when were now swaying back and forth to the music, Kieren made himself feel everything. His hand in Rick’s, their bodies moving in sync, Rick’s hand on his back and his on the other boy’s shoulder. Interlinked at so many places it felt hard to imagine that they could ever be separate again. 

The first time, Kieren remembered, he had been nervous and clumsy, not knowing where he should or could put his hands and feet and constantly worrying why Rick had decided to dance with him.

“Why did you dance with me? That day when we were listening to my mixtape. You took me outside the cave to dance.” There was no need for loud words even with the music playing.

“Honestly, I don’t remember. I think it was an act of rebellion? My dad would’ve killed the both of us if he’d seen it. I think that’s why I did it. Because I was drunk and he wasn’t there and I felt like ‘fuck him’.”

The song changed and so did their dance. They were now slowly turning in circles, careful not to knock over any candles yet the snow outside made them stay in their confined space. Not that Kieren minded.

“He’s not a good person, Ren. I know that. Better than anyone. I just wonder if I can ever be a good person. If I have a chance.”

Kieren stopped. Holding their intertwined hands in place, he looked at his friend in horror. 

“You can’t mean that,” he said. “Tell me you don’t mean that.”

Even though Rick tried to avoid Kieren’s gaze he didn’t back away. For probably the first time ever, Rick stayed. He held on tightly to Kieren’s hand and back, nothing indicating that he’d ever want to let go.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be enough for you. I cannot give you what you want from me. I don’t know if I ever will. My father he would… I don’t know if I’ll ever be safe for you.” Kieren couldn’t recall ever hearing words that hurt more than those, uttered by his best friend, tears welling up in blue eyes only inches from his.

“You don’t have to do anything, Rick. I don’t need you to give me anything!” It was hard not to scream. It was hard not to cry. The cave, their safe space, felt more secluded from the outside world than ever. Reality seemed very far away at that moment. It was only him and Rick. It was them and that terrible uncertainty. That feeble possibility.

“I see the way you look at me, Ren…”

“You’re my best mate! Don’t let him ruin this!” Kieren was yelling his words. Rick’s were barely more than a breath. It used to be the other way around.

“I don’t know if I can love anyone.”

Their dancing positions had changed, their hands sunken. Softly, Kieren let his hand glide from Rick’s shoulder down the other boy’s arms until it joined with his hand. They were holding hands. They were standing so close. 

“You can’t say that.” Kieren wasn’t yelling anymore. He wished he’d never had. “Because I don’t believe you. And you know why? You are not your father.”

Rick let out a sob, letting go of one of Kieren’s hands to wipe his eyes. It broke his heart. Rick was struggling now, trying his best not to look at Kieren, trying to hide his crying. But Kieren didn’t give in. He held onto the boy’s hand, he held his gaze steady.

Finally, Rick looked back at him. His eyes were full of sorrow, full of fear. His eyes were full of both. They were full of love.

“And I see the way you look at me, Rick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is. sweet and cuddly. enjoy.


	24. To Build a Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PARIS VOL. I  
> Tracklist  
> 1: Friend, Please - Twenty One Pilots  
> 2: Sick of Losing Soulmates - dodie  
> 3: Motion Picture Soundtrack - Vitamin String Quartett  
> 4: Hello My Old Heart - The Oh Hellos  
> 5: On The Nature of Daylight - Max Richter  
> 6: It's Okay (Acoustic) - Tom Rosenthal  
> 7: Skinny Love - Birdy  
> 8: To Build a Home - Cinematographic Orchestra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> physical abuse

It was Afifa who told him. Kieren hadn’t seen that girl after the party and he almost turned around and walked the other way when he noticed her headed towards him in the school hallway. The look of distress on her face was what made him stay.

“Kieren, oh God” she said, sounding wound up. She looked like she had been crying.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t about her ex-boyfriend. Or anything that happened at the afterparty.

“Didn’t you hear?” 

That was when Kieren’s stomach dropped. It wasn’t unusual for him and Rick to not see each other for days on end. They were in different years, had different timetables, extracurriculars and friends. Sometimes Rick was held up at home. Sometimes it was worse.

“What happened, Afifa?” Kieren inquired, having to concentrate not to yell at her when she didn’t immediately answer. She wiped at her reddened cheeks. Kieren’s heart was going to burst from all the terrible things he imagined could have happened. Could have happened to Rick.

“Rick, oh god, I’ve just heard from Brock. He didn’t make it to training today and the coach called his home and, oh god…”

“What happened.”

“Oh Kieren, Rick’s in hospital.”

***

Kieren had never been to a hospital before. Not that he could remember. The place filled him with unease, an anxiety closely related to what he felt when his parents had made him go to therapy. 

The air of professionalism and sterility was much more prominent at the hospital, though, aided by the clean whiteness of it all. Doctors, nurses, patients and visitors all milled about, mixing and mingling in the narrow hallways underneath blindingly bright lights. It would have given Kieren a headache even without the reason of his visit.

He was being led to Rick’s room by a nurse whose nametag identified him as Juan. Juan wasn’t very compliant and didn’t answer many of Kieren’s questions, claiming that he wasn’t allowed to give out information like that. The only things he knew, while he followed the man deeper into the hospital, that it was nothing life threatening, that Rick was conscious, that he would be okay. It didn’t do much to calm his racing heart, his racing mind.

“Here we are” Juan announced, yet blocked the entrance to the room with his arm as Kieren tried to step in. “I’ll send someone to pick you up and escort you back out in thirty minutes.”

Only when Juan had rounded a corner and vanished did Kieren move. He pushed open the door with a shaking hand, trying to brace himself. Tears welled up in his eyes.

The room was so white. White walls, white ceiling, white floor, white beds with white curtains. 

Rick was asleep.

Kieren stepped forward, moving as if the air around him had become viscous. He couldn’t breathe properly. 

There was a chair on either side of the bed. Sitting there, his friend asleep, Kieren began examining him. His left arm was in a cast that went all the way up until it vanished under the white hospital robe. His face was one big bruise, one of his eyes swollen so much it didn’t look like an eye at all. 

Part of him whispered, that this had always been coming. That it had always been just a matter of when, not if.

Stifling a sob, Kieren reached out and softly he let his hand run through Rick’s short hair. There was no doubt within him who had done this. Who had beaten Rick until he was reduced to this mangled mess in a hospital bed. Kieren hated that his loathing of Bill Macy was stronger than his worry for Rick. 

It was only when the boy in front of him moved that he retracted his hand. Rick opened his eyes. Rick opened one eye.

“Hey, mate,” said a hoarse voice.

“Hey” answered a whisper. 

“I guess it’s safe to say my dad’s not really an art enthusiast.” Rick’s attempt at humour fell flat as he winced sitting up in his bed, pressing his right hand against his chest. 

“What happened?” Kieren asked, his eyes fixed on the broken face of the broken boy. 

“Found me looking at that drawing you did of me that day in the art classroom. Then again it was probably that I asked for it back. Or maybe that I said it was from you when he asked me. Or it was because he’d run out of cigs. Or he was bored.” He let out a bark only abstractly resembling a laugh. His hand remained on his chest, now clawing into the hospital gown. 

In shock, in anger, in worry, Kieren felt his own hands balling into fists. He felt his heart vibrating and his head spinning.

“Mum called the ambulance…”

“Do the doctors know he did this?” Kieren asked, gesturing at Rick’s arm and face and everything.

“According to the official health records I ‘fell down the stairs’.” He made the air quotes with the hand that was not in a cast.

“He can’t keep on doing this. He can’t keep this a secret anymore!”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then tell them! Tell the nurses, tell the police, tell someone!” Kieren pleaded, desperate to be heard, desperate to stop seeing his best friend like this, desperate for Bill Macy to stop abusing his own son. “Promise me, this is the last time I see you like this.” 

Rick looked torn, his healthy eye darting from Kieren’s face to the entrance and back. Then he sighed. 

“I promise. I’ll make sure of it.”

Once more, Kieren let his fingers run over Rick’s head, let his palm fall and come to rest on the lesser bruised side of his face. Tenderly, he ran his thumb over Rick’s cheek. “I am so sorry he does this.”

“Me too.” Rick’s voice was barely audible. “Promise me something too, Ren.”

“Of course.”

Rick brought his hand up to meet Kieren’s. He linked their fingers together. Tears had started to fall from his good eye, running down their conjoined hands. Above head, the halogen lamp flickered.

“Promise me, we’d do differently. Promise me, we’d do better.”

Every last trace of hatred vanished as those words washed over Kieren. He felt them fill his heart. It filled it with hope. 

When he blinked the tears away, he saw late nights in restaurants, evenings at the cinema, laughter lines deepening and hands intertwined. He was a home that would be safe and sound, he saw children growing up without having to hide. He saw a future. 

And the future would be him and Rick. Forever.

“You’d be an amazing parent, Rick Macy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just Love ending my chapters on Big Sentences am i not the Most Dramatic Person wow


	25. Rivers and Roads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PARIS VOL. I  
> Tracklist  
> 1: Friend, Please - Twenty One Pilots  
> 2: Sick of Losing Soulmates - dodie  
> 3: Motion Picture Soundtrack - Vitamin String Quartett  
> 4: Hello My Old Heart - The Oh Hellos  
> 5: On The Nature of Daylight - Max Richter  
> 6: It's Okay (Acoustic) - Tom Rosenthal  
> 7: Skinny Love - Birdy  
> 8: To Build a Home - Cinematographic Orchestra  
> 9: Rivers and Roads - The Head and The Heart

“Is he alright?” 

Kieren’s mom was sat on his bed, gesturing for him to sit down next to her. His room was the usual mess, unfinished and finished painting alike cluttering every horizontal surface, his walls barely visible behind sketchbook pages and sticky notes. His eyes fell upon one particular piece, half hidden behind a fresh canvas, the white a stark contrast against the red bleeding around the edges.

“How do you know?” Kieren asked, closing his bedroom door behind him and putting his backpack onto his desk. “Did Jem tell you?”

“How that girl always knows everything about everyone, I wouldn’t pretend to know” his mother joked but it barely hid her concern. Over the past few weeks, ever since Christmas, Rick had been spending more time at the Walker’s again. Things had started to feel like when they were little. 

Which meant that even when his own father was a monster, there were parents that cared about Rick.

Kieren set down next to his mother.

“So?” she asked, curiously raising an eyebrow. 

“He’s going to be okay. Fractured a few bones, messed his face up quite a bit but nothing too bad.”

“Oh, thank god.”

They smiled at each other in relief. But then his mother’s face changed back to concern. With her finger, she brushed a stray strand of hair out of Kieren’s face. Something she hadn’t for a long while, he realised. 

“Can I ask about it?”

Before, he and his mother had been incredibly close. They used to share everything. Now, he sometimes talked to Jem or Rick but most of the time, Kieren felt unable to formulate his thoughts into coherent sentences for him to speak and others to hear. Yet, it seemed like she had not lost her ability to read her son, to know what was on his mind and more importantly, in his heart. His jumbled thoughts were laid out in front of her and she managed to put them in order.

A couple of months ago that would have bothered him. He would’ve felt the need to shut her out, to hole up and live in secrecy, in solitude. To keep his heart away from everyone. But for some reason, he didn’t. For some reason, he smiled instead.

“I think I’m in love with him.”

But where he feels like his heart is bursting with light, his mother’s eyes cloud over. Her face falters ever so slightly.

“Oh Kier” she says.

Slowly at first, Sue Walker raises her hand to cup her sons face. Her hand is warm on his cheek. She blinked and there was true sadness in her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was firm.

“Darling, some people just cannot love who they want to love. It is unfair like that. And people like me, people like you, we end up breaking our own hearts over them.”

The weight of his mother’s words weighed down on his beaming heart, dimming it. He wouldn’t let it.

“No” he said, just as determined as her, escaping the pitying hand on his face with a look of exasperation. He’d laid out his heart in front of her and she was going to dismiss it. She was doubting his judgement when this was the only thing he’d ever felt this sure about.

“You don’t understand. I think he feels the same way.”

“You cannot know that, Kier.”

“Yes, I can” he stated, matter-of-factly. “I am certain of it.”

She furrowed her brows. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Kieren was about to protest, when she added with a sigh: “Or him.”

This wasn’t about her thinking that Rick didn’t reciprocate his feelings. This wasn’t about his mum worrying about failed love and heartbreak. She worried about their safety. She worried about Bill Macy. 

Always Bill Macy.

“He won’t always be around. We won’t be. He can’t keep us apart forever, mum. I won’t have that. We’ll manage.”

She tried herself at a smile and almost succeeded. He tried himself to believe in his own words and almost failed.

“I really hope you’re right,” she said.

***

The idea of soulmates is an abstract concept. Kindred spirits. Familiar hearts. The same ache in the same bones.

Kieren didn’t know at which point he stopped seeing Rick and him as separate entities and started seeing them as them.

Maybe it was when he told his mum. Or Jem. Or when he’s seen Rick at the hospital and felt his heart stop. Or when they were much, much younger, so much younger, and held hands while watching E.T. for the first time.

Maybe it had always been like that. And only now did Kieren put the feeling and the word together, like mixing yellow and blue and realising, they’d always belonged like that. They were always the potential for becoming green.

In the dark of night or the bright of day, surrounded by people and alone. Whenever and wherever. It was all he could see. 

Green. 

The colour of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Green is also a colour for rebirth which i find very interesting


	26. for him.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PARIS VOL. I  
> Tracklist  
> 1: Friend, Please - Twenty One Pilots  
> 2: Sick of Losing Soulmates - dodie  
> 3: Motion Picture Soundtrack - Vitamin String Quartett  
> 4: Hello My Old Heart - The Oh Hellos  
> 5: On The Nature of Daylight - Max Richter  
> 6: It's Okay (Acoustic) - Tom Rosenthal  
> 7: Skinny Love - Birdy  
> 8: To Build a Home - Cinematographic Orchestra  
> 9: Rivers and Roads - The Head and The Heart  
> 10: for him. - Troye Sivan

Kieren would’ve been nervous enough even if it weren’t for the other boy literally hovering over his shoulder, staring at the screen as he wrote. 

“You can make the art club sound better than that” Rick pointed out, tracing the lines Kieren had just finished typing with his index finger. His other hand remained in a cast, ever since his own father had broken it two weeks prior. “You want to impress them, right? Not bore them to death?”

At that, Kieren playfully shoved his friend away while deleting the last few rows of text. 

“You write a statement of motivation then to one of the most renowned art schools in Europe that some of the most brilliant and internationally adored artists and critiques and professionals will read. No pressure.”

Rick was back behind him, now resting his chin on Kieren’s shoulder. A small gesture. Intimacy.

Over the past few weeks, they had become so much more than Kieren could ever have anticipated. There were fingers ever so slightly brushing against arms or backs, there were hands interlinking every so often, lingering eyes with less and less shame. 

“You know, chances are very high they’ll just throw this right in the trash when they do a quick google and find two full hits for Roarton. The letter of recommendation from our art club tutor is literally ends with ‘He’s cool, I guess’.”

“Don’t sell yourself short like that. Your portfolio will easily overshadow this shithole.”

Blushing, Kieren returned to typing his letter of motivation, re-typing and typing again. The real reason this was hard, he thought, wasn’t because he wanted to get into the school. It was, because the words he typed where a manuscript for a future that had to be approved in order to be realised. 

“When’s the deadline again?”

“March 20th” Kieren recalled, frantically typing and saving the document.

“And then you’ll know straight away if you’re in or not?”

“I don’t know, actually.”

“It won’t be too long, though, right? We could be gone by summer, right?”

Despite it having been their plan for such a long time, it sent a wave of reassurance through Kieren whenever Rick implied his coming along to Paris, to wherever Kieren would go that wasn’t where they were now. That there was a future where they would be together and that future was becoming more their reality with every passing second.

“I don’t care where we are” Kieren said, foolishly. He was well aware that if they ever truly wanted a future then it lay as far away from Roarton as possible. That sooner, rather than later, The Den, the sheepish smiles, the secret words would not suffice.

His eyes traced over the now faint scar on Rick’s eyebrow and down to his bandaged hand. And despite everything, doubt made its way into his heart, crept into the darkest of corners, waiting to pounce.

“But the boulangerie, Ren” Rick said, in mock offence. 

“Okay then. For the bakery.”

**  
After Kieren’s letter was up to Rick’s standards, they retreated upstairs to Kieren’s bedroom to sort through his selected artworks for the portfolio once more.

Kieren was propped up comfortably next to Rick against his bed’s headboard, going through the larger pieces while Rick was flipping through a bunch of sketches. They were close enough that their legs and shoulders touched but not too close to not scoot apart if anyone entered unannounced. 

Even though Kieren had told Rick that his parents knew and were supportive, the other boy still flinched guiltily whenever another member of the Walker household looked at him for longer than a few seconds. 

“Oh, I remember this one” said Rick, fondly, holding up one of the sketch pages.

It was a charcoal piece with rough lines that joined together to form a forest scene. There were two bikes leaning against one of the trees. It was autumn and bare branches criss-crossed over the negative space sky.

When he blurred his vision, it almost looked like he was there again, in the forest, bantering with his best friend on a warm day in October. 

In one swift motion, Kieren took the drawing from Rick’s hands, analysing it. Always his own harshest critic his index finger followed the curves of the branches. He could’ve put more effort into the smaller branches, he supposed, furrowing his brows. 

“It’s not the best, I guess” he said with a sigh. He held the piece at an arm’s length in front of them. “The branches look weird if you look at them too long.”

At his side, Rick let out a puff of air. Kieren knew he was boring the other with his self-criticism. Every few pictures he couldn’t help but point out miniscule flaws, defend their spot in his portfolio against an imaginary jury. But Rick wasn’t a judge. 

“I think it looks brilliant” his friend offered, genuinely. 

“I just thought it would be nice to bring in a very simplistic and minimal piece as well. And charcoal, none the less. Even though charcoal isn’t my strong suit, obviously. Maybe I shouldn’t put it in, after all. On the other hand, it’s one of the very few landscapes. It’s very portrait heavy my portfolio, isn’t it? You think I should make it more diverse? I believe I have some more lan-“

He was interrupted in the midst of his rant. His words cut short by lips pressing against his own, by his breath caught in his throat, his heart stopping – and then restarting.

A few heartbeats, he tried to kiss Rick back but he had never kissed anyone before. His hands were shaking, surprised, fearful, ecstatic, when he brought them to rest on Rick’s neck. His lips moved awkwardly against the other’s, a soft giggle escaping Rick that made Kieren attempt to back away. But the other wouldn’t let him.

Rick recaptured his lips with ease, with eager. He’d brought his hand up to Kieren’s chest, his fingers splayed out over his racing heart. Surely, he could feel it beating against the palm of his hand. Was his beating just as fast? The world around them seemed to spin.

Kieren let his own hand wander up from Rick’s neck to rest at the back of his head, tugging at his hair. Now it was Kieren’s turn to laugh because he couldn’t hold the happiness, the elation, the euphoria trapped inside his body. 

Clumsily, yet confidently his other hand found its way to the small of Rick’s back, their bodies suddenly so close. If he didn’t ever open his eyes again, there would be no way to tell apart where he ended and Rick began. One entity. Soulmates in the making.

There was no way they could separate fast enough if anyone entered the room at that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPICY


	27. All I Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PARIS VOL. I  
> Tracklist  
> 1: Friend, Please - Twenty One Pilots  
> 2: Sick of Losing Soulmates - dodie  
> 3: Motion Picture Soundtrack - Vitamin String Quartett  
> 4: Hello My Old Heart - The Oh Hellos  
> 5: On The Nature of Daylight - Max Richter  
> 6: It's Okay (Acoustic) - Tom Rosenthal  
> 7: Skinny Love - Birdy  
> 8: To Build a Home - Cinematographic Orchestra  
> 9: Rivers and Roads - The Head and The Heart  
> 10: for him. - Troye Sivan  
> 11: All I Want - Kodaline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for  
> implied homophobia & abuse
> 
> /// this chapter is not the same as the canon, just a heads up, i know the canon story but i decided to . not.

Spring in Roarton was mostly the same as autumn. Rain and bleak, grey skies, late sunrises and cold air. It did not help that it was final exams for the graduates-to-be. Kieren was already soaked halfway home from art class, his ripped jeans clinging to his legs and the large grey hoodie turned black. Still, he preferred this over riding the bus with his peers. 

The next day, Kieren didn’t go to school. It didn't matter either way. Once again, his aching mind had made his body sick, a fever ravaging him; figuratively and literally. There was no way he could have explained this. Not to his mother, who seemed to attribute his sickness to getting soaked in rain the previous day, not to his inquisitive little sister, not even to himself.

Life was good. More than that. 

On Friday, him and Rick had kissed. He had kissed Rick Macy on the lips and Rick Macy had returned said kiss. It had been awkward and weird and unfamiliar, yet even the slightest thought of it made Kieren’s lips tingle with the ghost of the sensation. 

When they’d after a while broken apart, they’d laughed. It had seemed as the only natural reaction to something so ridiculously easy that had taken them so long to figure out. A revelation, in all its obviousness, all its detail. They had stayed lying next to one another in Kieren’s bed, holding hands and talking until late that day. Words came easy to them, in the dead of night, Kieren had noticed so before. But he’d never thought they’d be sparked by a kiss, inspired by a truth and proven by intertwined hands.

They’d always just used half hidden words for things that now their bodies spoke so very clearly, which was a language Kieren was much more fluent in.

Yet, despite all the elation of that evening, Kieren’s mind turned to ink soon after Rick left. It drowned all the light that his best friend’s lips had planted and seized the flames of a fire that had been burning in his heart all too long. They nursed his fears. That now that things were open, things were unsafe. 

Now that he knew that things like holding hands, like kissing were a possibility, it was all that he desired. He craved it like air and being deprived from it made his head light and dizzy. 

There was no way that he could make himself refrain from reliving that intimacy for months and months until Paris – if that even worked out at all. He started doubting that future, then doubted himself, then doubted everything in between. He spiralled, uncontrolled and unhindered, into a place much too dark for fire to burn at all.

He slept for most of the morning but when his eyes wouldn’t stay shut, he turned to the shoebox that he’s tucked away under his bed. People always asked that if a fire were to burn one’s house down, what would they save from it. Kieren would save this box. For its contents were precious beyond compare, though objectively they were mere keepsakes, nostalgia in paper form. But not to him. Not to them.

He took off the lid as he had done many times before. The box was pretty full at this point.

Sketches done in reckless abandon, bottle caps of drinks shared, notes passed in hallways and stuffed into lockers, movie ticket stubs and grocery receipts of money ill spent. Everyday items, miscellaneous trinkets that wouldn’t seem significant if it weren’t what they stood for. For the stories they bore. They were heavy in his hands with all the history they embodied.

His fingers slow and numb, he took out an envelope. It was a branded envelope of a printing company. Kieren ripped it open.

Exhaling heavily, as if to prepare himself, he took the pictures out of the envelope and began thumbing through them. Blurred faces stared back at him, one a mirror, one equally as, if not more familiar. In spite of everything, a soft smile settled on his face as he lay back against his pillow. Something stirred in his heart that hadn’t moved in a few days. 

He didn’t remember taking that many photographs. 

In his hazy mind there was merely space for memories of actual import. Sometimes he hated that. That he didn’t seem to be able to retain memories for as long as others, as effortlessly as others, as clearly as others. His head seemed to always go through them, checking their relevance without Kieren’s consent.

Therefore, it was nice to know that those fleeting moments were somewhat secured, tangible. 

He had reached the end. The beginning. The first one they ever took. They looked so young, Kieren thought, smiling and waving awkwardly at the camera. With his index finger he traced over their faces, ghostly pale against the dark cave background. His ink filled mind leaked from his eyes. Guilt, anger and fear, yes, but also longing. He missed Rick more than anything. 

When Kieren drifted back into feverish sleep, the photographs surrounding him on his bed, he dreamt of isolated wildflower meadows and blue skies and the feeling of warmth and safety and lips on his lips.

***

A knock on his bedroom door. In his dream, he was reliving an old memory of Jem, Rick and him playing hide and seek in the backyard. Another knock. He woke.

“Ren? It’s me. Jem let me in.”

At the sound of Rick’s voice, Kieren bolted upright, almost knocking his box of treasured memories off the bed. It took a few seconds to tell apart dream and reality but when his sight and mind had adjusted, he called for his friend to enter.

His head still heavy, he watched Rick sit down on the floor by his bedside. Part of him was hurt that he hadn’t joined him in his bed, but not loud enough to matter. Kieren would always come second after Rick, and he looked beautiful in the low afternoon light, all messy hair and rosy cheeks. 

“You look beautiful” said Kieren, weakly. Rick’s eyebrows raised in concern.

“Mate, you really do have a fever.”

Kieren didn’t laugh. Usually, he would have and part of him wanted to. But he couldn’t bring himself to make either of them listen to laughter just now.

“Hey, I remember that” Rick commented half-heartedly, reaching for and taking one of the photographs nearest to him. He examined it for a long time and Kieren examined him doing that. When his friend put the picture back down, his eyes still hadn’t changed back from looking concerned. Kieren knew why. Rick felt the same insatiable hunger and the same fear and guilt as him. He could see it in the way his eyes were clouded over, the way he’d sat down on the floor, the way his hand twitched like he wanted to move but couldn’t.

“I’m so sorry I made things complicated” said Kieren. And he really was. How could he ever live, knowing that he’d brought so much pain into his friend’s life simply by existing. And there was no way to change that. Because his existence required Rick near him. It was just the way his atoms were arranged, the way his heart and brain worked. He needed his friend like he needed the air he was breathing or the blood in his veins.

“Don’t say that. I’m glad it happened.”

Kieren scooted over, taking the photographs off his bed to make space. Rick let out a sigh of defeat before crawling up next to him.

“You know I won’t let him do anything to hurt you, right?” said Rick, even before Kieren could voice his fear. His face was inches from Kieren’s and if anything, he looked even more beautiful. Kieren wished for his eyes to be cameras now, to remember this sight before them and hold it treasured like the photographs. He willed his memory to commit to this moment.

“I just wish you didn’t have to say things like that at all. Why does it seem that the universe so desperately wants to keep us apart?”

“It doesn’t” denied his friend. Gingerly, Rick brushed a strand of hair out of Kieren’s face, tucking it behind his ear, his hand lingering there. Their eyes locked, intense blue against unfocused hazel. “The universe doesn’t give a shit about us. But I do. I’ll make it right.”

At some point Rick wrapped his arms around him completely, holding him close to his chest. They lay there like that, Kieren dozing off a couple of times. He dreamt of bakeries and strolling through crowded streets. He dreamt of holding hands. He woke up to Rick breathing a kiss on the top of his head. He could feel his friend whispering something but he couldn’t make out the words. Not in his half-awake, half-asleep state of mind, not with his brain pre-occupied with etching everything about this into his long-term memory.

***

When Kieren woke up the spot next to him was abandoned. For a moment, he wondered if maybe he’d only dreamt that Rick had been there. He worried, that his mind was able to trick him this bad again. But then he saw a white envelope sitting on the pillow. A single letter K had been drawn on the front, like a seal, like the promise on the cave wall. Inside, a card with Vincent van Gogh’s self portrait in the front.

“Dear Ren,”

***

Kieren received the letter the next morning. He stopped dead in his track when his father handed it to him, eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Who’s sending you letters from France, Kier?”

He still hadn’t told his family about having applied to art school. The stakes felt too high to risk them getting their hopes up or worse, hurting them in the process. He didn’t want them to think he wanted away from them. Especially Jem.

On their way to the bus stop, he watched her eagerly tell him about a boy getting caught cheating on a maths test and how her and Lisa had taken a bet before class on whether or not he would be caught. He watched the swing in her step and the light in her dark eyes, the half-smile on her lips when she talked about her girlfriend. No, he wouldn’t want her to think he wanted to leave her.

But he couldn’t stay either. 

And neither could Rick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that only took me, what, half a year? idek i don't even have a good enough explanation for me abanonding this fic so many times. but i am writing the last chapter(s) right now so. it Is happening, there Will be an end. Soon. i hope.


End file.
